


Thwala

by baby_bubastis



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bucky is a masochist, F/M, He's also a fool, Mutants, Rating for eventual smutty things, Unrequited Love?, bombing of a school, injured students, no graphic depictions of violence but discussion of a terrorist act, winterprincess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-09-22 20:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17066636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baby_bubastis/pseuds/baby_bubastis
Summary: Ever since Shuri healed him from the damage that HYDRA had done, Bucky has been loyal to her and to Wakanda. The Winter Soldier has found a new purpose as The White Wolf, protecting the genius Princess who gave him a second chance at life. But Shuri isn't 18 years old anymore, and the close relationship they've developed over the years is making him realize that he may be getting a little too close. He dutifully tries to push his feelings aside in the name of propriety, until he notices the Princess may have another admirer who could change everything.





	1. Slip

**Thwala**

Xhosa. _Verb._

To carry; to wear (on the head or shoulders); to bear or shoulder

***

_Like a song, a burden, a talisman, a shield,_

_I'll carry this secret like a load on my back,_

_Like a torch in my heart that burns yet heals;_

_Your light makes up for all that I lack_

_But what am I?_

_A wretch, a mistake_

_You deserve much more than me_

_So I bear my love_

_Like a bundle in my arms,_

_Like a stone in my chest_

_And I die and I die, I'm aching to rest_

_I would never weigh you down with this,_

_But the lie is getting heavy_

_And it's starting to slip_

***

It's almost nine when they make it back to the hotel. 

Miraculously, Bucky had managed to drag her away from her work, convincing her that there was no more to be done until tomorrow. 

A little bribing _may_ have also been involved.

"Time's up, doll. It's getting late, we should head back."

She glances up from where she's leaning over her desk. "Just let me finish reviewing the presentation, and then we can go. Fifteen minutes." The pleading look on her face is adorable. It warms his chest and he wants to chuckle. But he knows her. Fifteen minutes translates to about an hour in Shuri time, at least when it comes to work. Usually, he doesn't mind. It's actually one of the things he admires about her, the way she throws herself into her projects, especially for the outreach center.

They had been there since 6 a.m., though, and there truly isn't anything left to do tonight.

"I'll make you a deal."

She straightens up at that, arching a perfect brow as she waits for his proposal, looking every bit the royalty that she is.

"If we leave now, I promise we can have a movie night."

Shuri scoffs at first. Bucky doesn't care much for TV or movies. Occasionally, he will indulge in something that she, or Steve, or Sam suggests, but he prefers books and music. Or the tablet she made for him. So all of her attempts at a movie night with her best friend and bodyguard have been, thus far, unsuccessful.

But it's been a long week. With Nakia due any day now, Shuri's taken over operations at the center. They had arrived in Oakland the previous Friday to host a community fair for the surrounding neighborhoods in celebration of opening to the public. Tomorrow is the gala for the grand opening - mainly for city and community leaders - to promote the center and encourage collaboration and involvement. 

She's put everything into making sure it all runs smoothly, and Bucky knows the telltale signs that she needs rest. Sitting through a movie of her choice is a small price to pay to ensure she gets it.

"I swear. Whatever you want," he says, raising his palms in defense. She taps her fingers on the desk in contemplation and bites her lip. The action is distracting, and he looks away before his mind can take him places it shouldn't.

Her sigh is heavy, but he can tell he's won her over, because she's stifling a grin and her posture relaxes. " _Fine_. But you have to _promise_ you won't complain the whole time."

Bucky chuckles and clutches his chest in mock offense. "I would _never_ , Your Highness."

She rolls her eyes at his sly grin and mutters under her breath as she starts to close everything down. Something about thinking he's slick and being bossy, but all the bite is taken out at the small smile on her lips. 

*** 

By the time he arrives back at the hotel with Shuri and her Dora detail, he's maybe, kind of regretting his offer. Movie night has evolved into a binge-watching session of some show called _Altered Carbon_ that she’s been trying to convince him to watch. Bucky isn't so sure it sounds like something he wants to get sucked into, but they had a deal. 

Once they separate from the Dora and make it to Shuri's suite, she cues up Netflix on one of her holo devices and leaves Bucky to make popcorn while she slips into the bathroom to change. 

When she steps out wearing one of his old henleys (pilfered by her on a previous trip), his jaw goes slack. The shirt is huge on her tiny frame, stopping mid-thigh. But instead of pajama pants extending from under the hem of the shirt, there's nothing but inch after inch of glowing, mahogany skin, and he forgets to breathe. 

Then she's walking towards him, and Bucky remembers himself. He clears his throat. "Shuri, where are your, uh, pants?" 

She frowns in confusion, then glances down at her legs. "Oh. I have shorts on, this shirt is just super long." She waves a hand dismissively. 

He laughs, in spite of himself. "Well _maybe_ someone should wear her own clothes, instead of stealing mine." She snorts and plops down on the other end of the couch, snatching the popcorn bag from his hand and starting up the first episode. 

"Shhh," she admonishes, finger pressed to her lips, "show's on." Bucky shakes his head in amusement and relaxes back into his seat, turning to watch the screen. 

"Brat," he mutters. 

Shuri grins and throws a piece of popcorn his way. "Hush, you love it." 

She has no idea how true that statement is. He turns to watch her for just a second, distracted again by the sight of her bare legs in the small cotton shorts she wears, and then shifts his attention back to the show. 

*** 

Bucky actually ends up enjoying it. It's incredibly violent and full of nudity, but he doesn't mind it at all, and those two things don't detract from the story. He finds himself relating to the protagonist, Takeshi; a man out of time seeking redemption after a life of being used as a weapon for the wrong side. Even the main character's lover strikes a chord with him. Her dark, expressive eyes, rich brown skin, and long braids remind him of Shuri. 

And he tries to ignore the implications of those comparisons. 

They're just starting up the second episode when his Kimoyo beads alert him to a text. 

“That my bighead brother checking in again?” Shuri teases, leaning over on the couch to read his phone. 

Bucky laughs, unlocking his screen. “Cut your brother some slack, you've been traveling a lot lately. And no, _nosy_.” She giggles at that and hops up to make some more popcorn. 

**Sam**  
10:10 PM  
_Hey man, y’all still up? Steve and I just landed and we're thinking of checking out this new bar not too far from your hotel._

The Avengers are among the invitees for the gala and, while the whole team can't make it, Sam and Steve are all too happy to attend. Apparently, they've flown in early. He hasn't seen them in a while. As much as he wants to catch up with his best friends before tomorrow, he's enjoying having a quiet night in with Shuri. 

She sits back down next to him just in time to read the message over his shoulder. 

After a moment, she nudges him. “Go. You've endured enough torture for one night.” She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. His heart clenches. 

“Nice try, Princess,” he deadpans. “I’m not leaving’ you in this hotel alone." 

Shuri snorts. “Bucky, I’m 23, I think I can handle myself for a few hours. Plus, Emiola and Folade are across the hall, I’ll be fine. I know you miss those idiots, and I’m tired anyway. Have some fun, old man. For once.” 

He can't help but smirk at the mild teasing in her tone, and maybe she has a point. Shuri isn't a teenager anymore (as much as he's tried not to notice, but that's _his_ problem, not hers), and the two experienced Dora Milaje are more than capable of protecting her for a few hours. Still, Bucky can't fully tamp down the disappointment he feels at cutting their little marathon short. 

“Really, Buck, I’ll be okay. I'm sure you need a break from being my babysitter." Despite her disappointment, he can tell she doesn't want him to feel obligated to miss quality time with his friends. She's always so selfless. Another thing he admires. 

He considers her words for a minute and then sighs, knowing there's probably no arguing with her at this point. He stands and grabs the car keys. Maybe a beer or two with those jokers will do him some good. And she really does need to get some sleep. “Alright, sugar. But you call me the _second_ you need me, got it? I won’t be out long.” 

He shoots off a reply to Sam and heads for the door. 

“I’ll call if I need you. Scout’s honor.” She gets up from the couch after him, performing a little mock salute, and kisses him on the cheek. He can feel the blush spread practically to the tips of his ears and he clears his throat. _Damnit._ One bit of affection from this woman, and he's a schoolboy again. 

If Shuri notices, she doesn't let on, just sends him off with a goodnight, a strained expression on her beautiful face. He can't help feeling guilty that he broke his promise, and he vows to make it up to her soon. 

Making his way to the parking garage after checking in with Folade and Emiola, he climbs into the black SUV. He _is_ excited to hang out with Sam and Stevie. He's missed them, so he tries to shake off the nagging in his gut at letting Shuri down, and puts on some music. 

It's getting harder and harder for Bucky to control his emotions around her. 

The first time he woke up to her angelic face in her lab, he thought she was the most breathtaking thing he had ever laid eyes on. The warm music of her voice lifted him out of the cold and the darkness. Her brilliance shattered the bonds that had enslaved his mind and soul. 

She saved him- gave him a new arm, a new life, a new purpose. She had even convinced T'Challa to help him petition for Wakandan citizenship. It was a long, arduous process full of hearings, and evaluations, but after being convinced of his full deprogramming and rehabilitation (and loyalty), The Council had granted it. 

Shortly thereafter, T'Challa appointed him the position of personal bodyguard to the Princess. He knew Bucky took his work very seriously, and he had witnessed the friendship between his little sister and the White Wolf. He trusted that she was in good hands with her fierce protector. It didn’t hurt that she had practically begged her older brother. 

Their close friendship continued to grow. It was only in the last year or so that Bucky realized maybe he felt something more, but he dutifully pushed his emotions aside. It is beyond inappropriate to have a crush on his boss’s little sister - because that’s all it is, he keeps telling himself: a crush - no matter how grown she is. Or beautiful, or brilliant, or kind, or hilarious, or strong. The age difference alone is enough to make him feel guilty (he's either 35, or 105, depending on whether or not his time in cryo counts). Besides, Shuri would never reciprocate those feelings. She deserves so much better. 

Bucky shakes himself from his tumultuous thoughts and focuses on navigating to the address of the bar Sam gave him. 

Hopefully, a low key night out with his buds will give his mind a break from the near-constant internal battle he's found himself fighting these days. 

*** 

Apparently, “low key” is too much to ask. 

Bucky doesn't mind Tony Stark, even likes him sometimes, but the man always has to be the life of the party. So when he spots Sam and Steve at the back of what is more a crowded club than a bar, he internally groans. No sooner is he past the bar at the front of the establishment than a large hand claps him hard on the back. 

“If it isn’t the White Wolf himself!” Tony bellows. 

Bucky’s shoulders relax after the initial tense up from Tony’s sneak attack. “Stark”. He tries for enthusiasm. Judging by Tony’s expression, he fails. 

“Aw, come on Gramps, not excited to see me?” Bucky fixes his face and shakes the other man’s hand. 

“Just surprised me is all. I didn’t know you were coming in tonight too?” 

“You know Mr. Billionaire wasn't going to miss the party tomorrow,” Sam chimes in as he makes his way to the pair. “Good to see you, Buck.” 

“You too, man.” This time, Bucky gives a genuine smile, and the two embrace. 

“You sure it’s okay we come to this thing? I mean, you know you can't take this guy anywhere, he's a mess," Sam jokes, elbowing Tony in the chest. 

“Of course." Bucky chokes out a laugh at Tony’s scowl. “T’Challa already said it’s fine. The more people there to support this project, the better. And you guys are practically family.” 

“Thanks, man.” Sam smiles. “Let’s get you something to drink, I’m sure boss lady’s been riding you pretty hard.” He winks, and Bucky is thankful the lighting is fairly dim. He knows Sam doesn't mean anything by his innocent joke, but the imagery it conjures up in Bucky’s head makes his cheeks burn. 

He clears his throat and gestures for Sam to lead the way, and all three men head toward their booth. 

After a hug and hello to Steve, they sit down and order a round. 

“So where’s Her Highness? Didn’t think you two could physically be separated,” Tony teases. 

Sam and Steve try, and fail, to hide snickers. Bucky chuckles good-naturedly and brushes it off. “Yeah, well, it’s called doing my job, Stark. Anyway, she wanted to hit the sack early, and she’s got the Dora at the hotel with her." 

"How's Lil' Bit doin'? I hear you all been pretty busy recently," Sam says. 

Bucky grins like a fool thinking about all the traveling he's done with the Princess. She comments all the time that she could bring more Dora along if he ever wants to take a break from babysitting her. He never admits to her that he enjoys it. Just waves her off and gives some line about how he'd be useless if he didn't have her to chase after and protect, which usually draws one of those gorgeous smiles from her that he loves so much. 

"She's good. Workin' her ass off. I don't know how she handles all the outreach work while the Queen is on maternity and still heads the Design Group back home." 

Tony yawns dramatically and leans back in his seat. "Ok, ok, Princess is great, she's Superwoman, fine. What about you, Barnes? No hot girlfriend anywhere? You've been back, what- five years now? Don't tell me you haven't fu-" 

" _Don't_. Finish that sentence, Stark." 

Tony laughs and raises his hands in defense. "I'm just sayin'. The kid doesn't let you have a social life? Steve's always griping about how he barely hears from you." 

"First of all," Bucky counters, "Shuri is 23. Second, I know for a fact Steve complaining about me isn't true. We talk almost every week. Ain't that right, Stevie?" He shoots his best friend a grin. 

Steve just shakes his head, returning the smile. "Sure, Buck." 

"But really though," Sam says, "nothing goin' on with you? I mean, there have to be some perks to working with all those beautiful women." 

"Nah man, it's not like that. The Dora are nothing but professional. I mean, I'm great friends with Koye and some of the others, but no lines are being crossed. Anyway, not much interest right now in dating. I wouldn't even know where to start. Bit rusty." 

That's mostly the truth. Bucky spends most of his free time at his own place tending to his goats and small crops. He enjoys the peace and quiet. But his favorite thing is when Shuri comes out for a visit. Her presence somehow makes the secluded hut truly feel like home. Not that he'll ever admit it. 

“Mmhmm,” Sam says. Bucky shrugs it off. He knows his friends are just concerned about him. 

*** 

Their drinks arrive, and Bucky is glad that he came out. 

The club turns out to be a speakeasy-type lounge, with live music starting up shortly after the waitress brings their orders. The four of them talk and laugh in-between sets. They're debating the best era of music - for Steve, it's the 40's; Tony claims the '70s; Sam insists it's the '90s; Bucky actually enjoys it all, but he really likes the new music Shuri has introduced him to - when Bucky gets alerted to a text. 

Taking out his phone, he smiles when he sees that it's Shuri. He opens the message, ready to scold her for still being awake, but what he reads makes no sense: 

**Princess**  
11:37 PM  
_Lol idk Kurt. As tempting as that is, I don't think I'm quite ready for that. But I'm definitely overdue for a visit. Can't wait to see you tomorrow! ;) <3_

He frowns in confusion. Obviously, she's texting someone else and meant to send it to them. So who the hell is Kurt? And why is she texting him so late? 

Bucky knows that he should respond to let her know he got the message by accident, but the more he reads it, the more he feels a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. (Jealousy. He's jealous.) 

Shuri has never mentioned a Kurt to him, which is unusual, because they talk about almost everything. Maybe Kurt is someone she just met? And what isn't she "quite ready for"? Bucky doesn't like that. 

No, he doesn't like that at all. And apparently she plans on seeing him tomorrow, which means Bucky will see him tomorrow. 

He doesn't realize he's glaring a hole into his phone until Steve gives him a nudge on the shoulder. "Buck, everything okay? Do you need to go?" 

Bucky's head snaps up to meet three curious gazes. Shit, how long has he been sitting here glowering at his screen? He clears his throat and puts his phone back in his pocket, but not before glancing one more time at the offending text. 

"No, no, everything's fine." Steve looks at him skeptically, so he elaborates, "Just got a weird message from Shuri, she texted me by mistake. I think she meant to send it to one of her guy friends." 

"Ah. Pretty Princess sending out a booty call while her keeper's away?" 

Everyone turns to stare at Tony, who shrugs. "What? I mean, what else is she doing texting a guy this late?" 

Bucky knows his face is bright red, but he doesn't really care at the moment. Tony can be such a prick. "Watch it, Stark," he grits out. 

Tony leans back, raising a palm. "I'm just sayin'. I thought you said before that she was going to bed, so..." 

"Aye man, quit while you're ahead," Sam mumbles, reading the tension at the table. 

Bucky simply glares at Tony for several beats, trying to regulate his breathing and reign in his temper. 

"Look Barnes, I didn't mean anything by it. I know you have to 'defend her honor,' or whatever. It was a bad joke, ok?" 

Bucky takes a deep breath, schools his features, and gives a slight nod. "Forget it, it's fine." He doesn't miss the glance Steve exchanges with Sam. "I'm gonna grab another round, you guys want anything?" 

When they all answer in the negative, Bucky gets up and makes his way to the bathroom instead of the bar, jaw still clenched tightly. He really shouldn't be losing his composure like that, especially with a friend, over a shitty joke. That text message had just thrown him for a loop. 

In all the time he's known her, Bucky hasn’t seen Shuri talk with many guys her own age in a social setting. She has plenty of friends back home, but most of her time recently has been spent traveling. 

Now that he thinks about it, he's only seen her go on a handful of dates since becoming her bodyguard, and none of them ever really went anywhere. The mixture of relief and guilt he feels at that unsettles him. He never wants to deprive her of living. He is fiercely protective. He has to be; she's rare, and precious. But the last thing he wants is to isolate her, to scare away any chance she could have at real happiness. And then the thought that that happiness can never be with him drains his body of all warmth. He doesn't want to think anymore about what it means that she is texting some guy at eleven thirty on a Friday night after eagerly pushing him out the door when she was supposed to be getting rest. 

So he doesn't. He splashes cold water on his face after washing his hands and exits the restroom, thinking that maybe he _could_ use another beer. 

Steve is waiting for him outside the door, and Bucky suppresses a sigh. He can tell from the look in his friend's solemn blue eyes that he wants to talk, and it's not a conversation Bucky is ready to have. 

"You okay, pal?" Steve asks. 

Bucky attempts his signature devilish grin. "Never better. Change your mind about that drink?" 

Steve isn't buying it. The band has started up again, and he motions for Bucky to follow him. 

Once outside, they find a spot several feet from the entrance and lean against the wall, quietly observing for a moment. 

The air is cool, but not uncomfortably so. More people are out and about now. Cars fill the street, blaring music as they weave through the brightly-lit metropolis. There are no stars visible, not this far into the city, but Bucky tilts his head back and gazes at the smoggy night sky, trying to clear his head. 

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to this," Steve says after a while, giving a slight laugh. "I thought _Brooklyn_ was crowded back when we lived there. But _this_..." he shakes his head. 

The corners of Bucky's mouth quirk up. "I know what you mean. Seems like everything just gets louder and brighter and busier. Never thought I'd prefer living in a cabin out in the middle of nowhere." 

"I don't know, I think it suits you. You've earned some peace." 

Bucky looks over at his best friend. His heart swells at his kindness. He'll never be able to express his gratitude for the second chance they've both been given. He smiles, nods his head once, and then turns his gaze back to the street. 

"Plus," Steve continues, "you don't spend all your time playing goat-herder. I can barely keep up with you and Shuri, you guys are always off on some adventure." 

"Yeah,” and Bucky doesn’t temper his face-splitting grin. “Well, when you're the genius princess of a super-advanced nation, there's no shortage of opportunities." He tries for nonchalance, but can't quite keep the pride and adoration out of his voice. "I'm just along for the ride." He shrugs. 

Steve arches a brow, smirking at him. "Uh huh. Come on man, you enjoy it." 

"I enjoy it," Bucky laughs. 

They go quiet for a few minutes then, and he's glad they came outside. He needed the fresh air. 

"Do you love her?" 

Just like that, Bucky feels like he's suffocating. 

His eyes dart up to meet Steve's knowing gaze, and he doesn't even attempt to lie. If there was one person he could never bullshit, it was Steve Rogers. 

Instead, he lets out a long breath and runs his right hand through his shoulder-length strands. "Is it that obvious?" 

"Eh." Steve shrugs. "I know you, Buck. I could tell." 

And Bucky appreciates the fib. Thanks to his little outburst back inside, he's sure Steve isn't the only one who noticed he's a bit... _sensitive_ when it comes to Shuri. 

Normally, he wouldn't be so obvious. He's sure he's successfully hidden his emotions from everyone else thus far. If he hadn't gotten that stupid text...but that’s not fair. None of this is Shuri's fault. 

"Does she know?" 

"No," Bucky answers quickly. "We're close. She's my best friend, other than you but," he swallows, "I would never burden her with that. I know how wrong it is, and I don't want to ruin any of this. I just-" he flounders, trying to search for the right words, and lets out an exasperated sigh. 

Steve nods, but doesn’t speak for several moments. 

"You know, I visited as much as I could after I brought you to her. I was so worried you'd never come back. But no matter how often I showed up, no matter how many times I called to check on you, Shuri never brushed me off or made me feel silly. And she was always so careful with you. She put everything into healing you; T’Challa told me she barely left the lab for months. Hell, I almost fell in love with her myself when I got the call that the triggers were gone and you were awake." Steve chuckles. "And then the first time I saw the two of you in the same room together, the way you looked at her... So yeah, I knew. There was no better place for you to be. I still feel that way." 

Bucky lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and his shoulders relax. 

“But,” Steve goes on, “I don’t have to tell you that you need to be careful. What you feel, what you two are... it could get messy. She’s not a kid anymore, but she’s so young, Bucky.” 

There it is. That’s what he had really been waiting for. Suddenly the tension is back, and he’s so tired, he just wants to go back to the hotel and sleep for a week. “You think I don’t know that, Stevie?” His voice is raw with emotion, and he hates that he can’t control the tremble in his right hand, so he balls it into a fist. 

Steve gives him a sympathetic look, squeezes his shoulder briefly. “I know. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to scold you. Just make sure you can stay objective. I know how special she is to you, and I just don’t want to see either of you hurt in any way.” 

He pauses then, but is met with silence. “Look, I can’t tell you what to do. I could tell you what I think is realistic, or what I would do. But the truth is, only you can decide. I know you’ll do the right thing.” 

_And what exactly is 'the right thing'?_ Bucky thought he knew, but the last 20 minutes has stirred up every emotion he’s been suppressing for who-knows-how-long, and he feels ready to explode. 

So he does what he usually does, and swallows it down. He presses his lips together and nods, pushing off from where he was leaned against the rough brick. 

“Bucky.” 

The softness in his friend’s voice stops him. He turns around and stares blankly for a minute. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. “I love you, you know that. I love both of you, and I’m really not trying to tell you how to live your life. You know what’s best for you. Just- don’t make any rash decisions one way or another, alright?” 

Bucky sighs, and then they’re hugging, and he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He’s been carrying this weight for much longer than he’s willing to admit, and it’s almost disorienting to finally tell someone. He knows Steve is with him, no matter what he decides to do. He just doesn’t know what the hell that is. 

They separate, and Bucky pats him on the shoulder. “Thanks.” 

Steve’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles at his oldest friend. “I’m always here for you, Buck.” 

He nods at that and then begs off for the rest of the evening. “It’s getting late, and we have an early day. Hey, tell Sam and Tony I’ll see ‘em tomorrow. And tell Tony I’m sorry.” 

Steve waves him off. “You kiddin’? I’m sure he’s already forgotten about it. Probably in there right now hitting on one of the waitresses. Get outta here, we’ll see you tomorrow night.” 

*** 

During his drive back to the hotel, Bucky throws on one of the playlists Shuri made for him. His conversation with Steve plays over and over in his head, and he tries not to think about how truly far gone he is. 

***

Notes:

Disclaimer: All Marvel characters belong to Marvel and Disney, not me.

So here's the first chapter! Initially, this was titled "Help Me Help Myself," inspired by an old As Tall As Lions song called "Maybe I'm Just Tired," but I think this fits better for what I have in mind.

I'm so nervous about my first multi-chapter, and I hope it's enjoyable! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! :) Thank you so much for reading! <3


	2. Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky tries to forget his little confession, but his brain has other ideas. Then, when it's time for the gala, he sees old faces and new.

Bucky half expects Shuri to still be awake and moving about as he crosses the threshold of his adjoining room, but the connecting door is cracked open, and all he hears is silence.

He closes it to give her (and himself) some privacy, and then slowly, methodically undresses. Mentally going over their itinerary for the next day, he tries to shut out the events of the last hour.

After putting on pajama pants and brushing his teeth, he plops down on the edge of the bed. His head drops to his hands, and he sees that text message again behind closed eyelids.

It’s well after one in the morning, but he’s way too keyed up to fall asleep right now. Sighing and running a hand through his hair, he stands up and decides to take a shower, hoping it will relax him and help clear his head.

For a few moments, it works. 

The hot spray running over him soothes some of the tightness in his muscles, wiping his mind of everything but the near-scalding water. Bucky can't remember the last time he took more than five minutes to shower. His cabin doesn't exactly have a state-of-the-art stall with amazing water pressure. When at his own home, he washes in the small pond nearby, and the water is usually lukewarm at best- not that he minds.

Tonight, though, he takes advantage of the late hour and the extra time on his hands. Reaching up, he grabs the removable shower head and rotates it to get one of the power massage settings. As he runs the concentrated spray over his neck, shoulders, and torso, he realizes just how sensitive he already is from standing in the hot water for several minutes. It almost feels like fingers kneading his skin. The sensation is incredible, especially considering he can't recall when he was last touched by a person this way. 

Contrary to what he'd told his friends, Bucky had actually tried dating a couple of times in the years since his deprogramming. 

It was still in the early days, just over a year after waking up in Wakanda. He stayed in one of the more populated villages of the River Tribe right after moving out of Shuri's lab, and one of the local women had been particularly helpful as he acclimated to everyday life. She was beautiful and quiet, and though Bucky had initially been resistant to getting close to anyone (save for Shuri), he eventually decided to take a chance, and asked her over for dinner one evening. It was nice, but there was no chemistry and nothing really came of it. They ended up becoming fairly good friends. 

It was a while before he tried anything like dating again. 

Eventually, he took to training with the Dora Milaje. Nneka was a Dora-in-training (another thing he refused to divulge to his nosy pals). She was slight, but strong, with a good sense of humor. They hit it off immediately, yet Bucky was still surprised when she asked him out. He was hesitant at first, worried that fraternization wasn't allowed for new recruits, but a grinning Okoye had assured him there was no issue.

That lasted a few months. As lovely and fierce as Nneka was, something was missing. He knew he couldn’t put as much into the relationship as she deserved. There were no hard feelings, and she had left him with a soft kiss and a smile. “I hope you find your great love, _Ingucka_. You deserve it.” The knowing look in her eyes confused him at the time, and Bucky now realizes his infatuation had probably been more obvious than he thought.

Not long after that, he became Shuri's personal bodyguard. Her packed schedule and his previously failed attempts at romance left him with little desire to try his hand at relationships again any time soon. All the while, he tried to convince himself his reasoning had nothing to do with budding feelings for the woman he was sworn to protect.

But really, who was he kidding? It dawns on him now, as he muses over the last five years of his new life, that he belonged to Shuri the day she brought him back. 

He continues to mindlessly guide the shower head across his overly-sensitized skin, now red and warm from the heat of the shower. His mind has inevitably wandered to exactly where he didn't want it to go, but he doesn't stop the thoughts that follow.

A low groan escapes his throat as his hand drops lower, directing the forceful stream of hot water over his lower abdomen and groin. His eyes slip closed at the sensation. 

Bucky would be lying if he said he never dreamt about how Shuri's smooth skin would feel under his fingers, or what her voice would sound like rasping out her favorite nickname for him in his ear. Still, he's tried not to entertain those fantasies. If anything, they only fuel his longing for her, and he knows how dangerous that is.

But it's late. He's tired, and frustrated, and melancholy, and he just wants something to escape into. 

So he runs the shower head back up his stomach, then his chest, pretending it's her touching him. Placing the wand back in its holder, he leans against the wall in front of him. The steamy water pours down over his back as he rests his head on his forearm. He imagines her there before him, instead of next door sleeping in her own bed. She's still in his beige henley, soaking wet from the shower so that the now-transparent fabric clings to every bit of her flesh. His fingers flex at the thought of peeling his shirt over her head, of drawing her tiny shorts down, worshipping those supple legs with his mouth as he goes. If it's possible, his blood heats even more as it races through his veins, and he can't see anything but the vision of her in his mind's eye.

His chest heaves as he makes one last effort to fight the urges and images flooding his brain, but he doesn't really want to. He loses the battle, sliding his flesh hand down his torso.

He's already half-hard when he grasps the base of his cock, and he has to stifle another groan for fear he'll be overheard. _Just for tonight_ , he tells himself. Then tomorrow he'll go back to pretending.

Squeezing his eyes tighter, his hand slowly glides up his length to the tip. His thumb runs over it, mixing his own moisture with the water running over his skin. He imagines her fingers there, gripping and swirling gently. And then he's pumping, slow at first, then faster as he pictures her glowing skin, her full lips. It's no longer his own hand surrounding him, but her - incredibly hot and dripping wet. His hips thrust in earnest now, and he can almost swear her sweet breath brushes across his face. 

In his head, she’s up against the wall in front of him, long legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he grips her ass and drives into her over and over. She's mewling in his ear - desperate, beautiful sounds that beg him for more. Her hands claw at his back, reach into his wet hair seeking, any kind of leverage against the force of his stroke, and he's reaching his peak far sooner than he intended, but the images don't stop coming, and it's so good.

Blinding pleasure explodes at the base of his spine as he comes hard. He huffs out a harsh breath, spilling himself down the shower drain to the fantasy of her warm walls convulsing around him as he draws his name out of her mouth.

***

He hasn't slept through his alarm in longer than he can remember. Years, probably. So it's a bit of a shock when the first thing he registers is a warm hand on his shoulder, shaking him back and forth. Initially, he thinks it's a dream and groans, trying to turn over in bed.

His ears prickle at her exasperated sigh. "Bucky, _get up_!"

Eyes popping open at her insistent tone, he scrambles out of bed, moving in front of her.

It takes him all of five seconds to realize it's just the two of them in his hotel room. _Wait, why is she in here?_ Then he remembers the adjoining door, and glances over to where it's wide open.

" _Relax_ , Ingucka. Everything's fine. I just heard your alarm, and it wasn't turning off."

Bucky typically always wakes up before everyone else, even before his alarm. Normally, his body can't manage to stay asleep past about 4 a.m., and he likes to make sure he’s organized and ready for the day. Especially since Shuri always sleeps until the last minute.

"Must've been tired, eh? I've never seen you sleep in."

He rubs his eyes and then surveys the room one more time, ensuring everything truly is alright. He lands then on Shuri, and his late night activities come rushing back to him.

She looks even more delicious in his shirt after a night of sleep. His neckline hangs off of one brown shoulder, exposing her neck and collarbones. One edge of the hemline is haphazardly tucked into the waistband of her tiny shorts. The colorful scarf wrapped around her head is adorable. Her eyelids are still heavy with sleep, and her smooth voice is low and raspy. 

He gives himself a mental shake and checks the time. "Yeah," he says absentmindedly, "late night with the guys. 

"Hmm." She nods her head, placing her hand on her hip. Her scrutinizing gaze sweeps over his form. He thinks that he sees her eyes linger on his bare chest before moving up to his lips, but he knows it's wishful thinking. She sighs and checks her Kimoyos. "I'm going to hop in the shower. What time are we leaving?"

It's only 6:05, so they have plenty of time before she has to meet with the vendors at the center.

"Caterers are coming to set up at 8, so we should leave by 7:15."

"Okay." She stifles a yawn and turns toward her room.

"Shuri." _Don't ask don't ask it's none of your business don't ask._ "How was the rest of your night?" 

Her sweet smiles eases some of the tightness in his gut. "It was fine, really. I watched a little more TV, played around on my phone, then went to sleep. Turns out someone was right- I needed the rest."

He tilts his head, frowning slightly. "That's all you did?"

She narrows her eyes. "...Yeah, why?"

 _Crap._ "I mean, I just feel bad I cut our movie night short. No bailing next time, promise. I hope you weren't too bored after I left." _Smooth._ He's a little annoyed that she doesn't mention anything about texting any "Kurt," but he tries to push it down.

She waves a slender hand dismissively. "No biggie. Like I said, I was dead tired. I'll be ready by 7." She winks and then continues to cross the threshold into her side. Just as Bucky starts heading toward the bathroom, she stops him. "Hey."

He halts.

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise," she says, and he smirks.

***

She's ready by 7:10, which isn't bad, and they even have time to grab a quick breakfast on the way to the center.

The day goes by in a blur of meetings and phone calls and set up for the event tonight.

The gala is scheduled to start at 6:30 p.m. sharp, and Shuri needs to be there an hour before for a final walk-through. It's nearly three o' clock when things are wrapped up enough for her to head back to the hotel to get ready.

She found a local beautician and makeup artist weeks ago to help with her hair and makeup, and Emiola and Folade are planning to get dressed in her room so they can all help each other as well.

Bucky showers again, taking extra care shampooing and conditioning his hair with the products Shuri gave him a while back. He opts to keep it down, parted on the side. He wears it in a bun every so often, but she told him once she likes it best when it's loose. 

His beard has been growing for years, so he only trims it up, scrubs his face, moisturizes. If anyone were to ask, he just wants to look the part of distinguished bodyguard. Shuri insisted that he and the Dora dress up instead of wearing uniforms for the gala, and he was able to get a suit made back home by a tailor he had become good friends with. 

The soft, lightweight wool garment is fitted perfectly to his body. He never thought he would wear a suit again, and certainly not this color. But the royal blue three-piece, paired with a crisp white dress shirt and black dress shoes complements his skin nicely, and he can't wait for the Princess to see him all cleaned up.

Tonight won't be so bad. So what if this Kurt guy does show up? For all he knows, they're just friends, nothing more. 

He has to be focused, especially since Shuri will be surrounded by people he doesn't know. While he and the Dora vetted everyone on the guest list, it still makes him uneasy, and he needs to remain sharp. 

She's so excited for tonight, he won't ruin it by being childish. She isn't his and, ultimately, she can talk to whomever she wants.

Checking himself in the mirror one more time, he knocks on the adjoining door. "You ladies almost ready?"

"Five more minutes!" Shuri yells back, and he chuckles. 

He puts his key card in his wallet, grabs his phone, and makes sure his weapons are holstered properly, then exits the room. 

***

He's been leaning up against the wall opposite her room for four minutes and forty-seven seconds when her door opens. Folade walks out, followed by Emiola. They're stunning in their floor-length gowns, and they both carry elegant clutches (concealing their spears, no doubt).

"You gals look lovely," he says.

The two women grace him with sweet smiles and move to stand on opposite sides of the hallway. Folade settles in next to him and leans in to whisper conspiratorially, "Wait until you see the Princess."

Movement out of the corner of his eye grabs his attention. He turns his head just in time to catch her stepping over the threshold, and his first reaction is to fall to his knees.

He doesn't, of course. Mainly because his brain is currently incapable of directing motor function, but also because that would definitely give him away.

The waterfall of bronze fabric pools at her heeled feet. He's never seen her in shoes like this. They're tall and the straps wrap around her slim ankles gracefully. He follows the lines of her legs, and blood rushes in his ears when he sees skin and more skin as his eyes continue up. The long gown has double slits that stop well above mid-thigh. At her waistline, the skirt seamlessly blends into sheer fabric embellished with shimmering sequin embroidery that swirls and winds over her torso and arms. Just at her rib cage, the sparse pattern subtly blooms to fully cover only her breasts and forms a heart-shaped neckline, then spreads out again to reach up her slender neck. Aside from her breasts, the luminescent skin of her torso is very much visible through the transparent bodice and the sequins adorn her skin like glittering tattoos. It's sexy, and alluring, and daring in a way that he's never seen before, on her or anyone, and he resists the urge to moan.

Her long braids have been parted on the left side and styled into big, loose curls, swept over one shoulder and pinned to stay in place. Several strands are adorned with gold beads that complement her dress and the subtle shimmer of gold shadow that graces her eyelids.

Her skin is radiant, even more than usual, and her plush lips are painted in a sheer gloss that makes him lick his own at how sumptuous they look. 

She's too busy smoothing her dress and fussing with her hair to witness him ogling her, and he's thankful for that. One of the women to his right clears her throat, and his eyes snap over to two poorly-concealed grins.

"Bucky." His attention shifts back to the goddess before him, and he doesn't miss her appreciative appraisal. "You look... _great_."

He shifts on his feet at the compliment, and his face heats. "Not _half_ as good as you, Your Highness. You're gorgeous." He shakes his head in disbelief at how utterly devastating she is.

The dress and shoes are a bold choice for Shuri. She never shows this much skin, yet it fits her style perfectly. Everything about this look reinforces the fact that she is most definitely a grown woman.

Her blinding smile causes a fluttering in his stomach. Rendered speechless, he motions for her to stand in front of him so he can close the door to her hotel room. 

Once they're convinced they have everything, the two Dora Milaje walk just slightly in front. Bucky briefly places his left hand at the small of Shuri's back to usher her forward. As they make their way down the hall toward the elevator, he dutifully keeps his eyes straight ahead. Until a warm hand slides up the inside of his Vibranium arm and lightly grasps his bicep. He can't help the goofy grin that forms, and when he glances beside him, she's grinning too.

***

It’s almost a cliche. They step foot off of the elevator, and every eye in the bustling lobby is glued to them. Or, more specifically, to Shuri. Nothing stops, but everyone turns their head her way as they pass, and Bucky feels a mixture of pride and something else he doesn’t want to name. He can hear murmurs as they make their way to the exit. One man even does a double take and nearly trips in the doorway as they’re walking out, mouth slightly agape as he looks the Princess up and down. 

Bucky doesn’t know whether to be angry or empathetic. Shuri is exquisite, so he can’t blame anyone who looks her way. But all the eyes on her put him on edge.

Once he helps her climb into their vehicle, he slides in on the other side, and Folade pulls out of the parking garage. 

The drive is quiet, save for the music - something from Emiola’s playlist - and the hum of the road. Bucky tries to train his eyes on the road ahead, and then Shuri shifts in her seat, ankles crossing and uncrossing, hennaed hands nervously tapping on the seat between them.

“Everything’s gonna be great, doll.”

Somber brown eyes dart over to his, and his heart clenches at the sight of her tears. “I just wish Baba could have seen this. He should be here.”

Bucky doesn’t think. His hand moves of its own accord, gently grasping her smaller one. She sniffles, but doesn’t say anything. It seems to calm her, though. Her fidgeting stops and, after a while, the tears do as well. He stares at their hands, marveling at the softness of her skin, fighting the urge to caress the brown silk with his own thumb.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he says thickly. Sorry for her pain. Sorry that T’Chaka isn’t here because of him (she’s assured him again and again that she knows he isn’t the man who killed her Baba, but Bucky knows the death of the former king was a means to get to The Winter Soldier). And he’s so sorry that she won’t get to see her father alive again. Although, according to Wakandan culture, they’ll meet again on the ancestral plane, and he finds some tiny bit of comfort in that. It’s a beautiful idea.

Bucky stopped believing in an afterlife sometime during his hellish existence under HYDRA’s thumb. Then he met his angel (she doesn’t know he sometimes thinks of her that way and that’s ok- it’s his secret). She’s made him believe in all kinds of things that he thought weren’t possible.

When her fingers lace between his and squeeze, his heart thunders and stutters in his chest. Her gaze now is determined, yet soft. “You have _nothing_ to be sorry for, James.”

He’s smart enough to know who’s won the argument before it begins, so he gives her a small smile and returns her squeeze gratefully. 

“You’ve already made everyone proud,” he says after a minute. “This is all you tonight, Shuri. Not your brother, not Nakia. _You_ organized all of this, _you’ve_ been running things. And they’re all gonna love you.” _How could they not?_

Her answering grin is breathtaking. “Flatterer,” she teases. He chuckles, and her hand squeezes his once more before returning to her lap.

***

The gala kicks off and things are going better than any of them could have hoped. As it turns out, Bucky’s prediction is right - everyone seems to love Shuri, and he pockets an “I told you so” for later.

He stands proudly by her side when she takes the small stage in the enormous atrium. She steps up to the microphone, and a gradual hush settles over the crowd.

“Welcome, everyone. On behalf of my brother, King T’Challa, his wife Queen Nakia, and myself, I want to thank you all for being here tonight. This has been a long time coming, and we're so grateful that you are sharing in this labor of love with us. There is a lot of history here in Oakland. It has special significance for our family, so this project is very close to my own heart."

He can hear the emotion in her voice, and he wishes he could reach out and grab her hand again. She clears her throat and continues, "This center, in this neighborhood, represents so much - the present making peace with the past, the brilliant future ahead of us. Wakanda has hidden itself away for so long, protecting what the world might take from us. Tonight, we're here to share, to build. We hope that you want to do that with us."

Her face is luminous. She radiates strength, determination, and pride. That warm aura surrounds him, and he basks in it. The audience breaks into thunderous applause at her speech, and then turns their attention to the large holo screen that comes up, showing the video presentation Shuri put together for the event.

***

After a fantastic dinner, she makes her way around the softly lit space, and Bucky keeps a respectful distance, allowing her to move around freely while still keeping a watchful eye on her. Emiola and Folade are stationed on the other side of the room, watching as well. 

Shuri chats with the mayor, then someone Bucky is nearly sure is the state Senator of California. She charms everyone who talks to her, and he's happy that things seem to be on track.

Then he sees a familiar face. As the official U.S. liaison to Wakanda, Everett Ross has made more than one appearance, both in Wakanda and here, at the outreach center. Bucky still isn't terribly familiar with the man, but he's aware of his role in helping stop the near-disaster that almost occurred at the hands of Shuri's long-lost cousin so many years ago. Ross is a stoic man, much like Bucky. Except when he's around the Princess. Shuri thinks highly of him, and their relationship has always been friendly, so Bucky doesn't think anything of it when he watches them share a brief embrace.

When they separate, however, Ross's hand lingers at the small of her back and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he gazes at her. She doesn't seem to notice as she talks and gestures animatedly about something. Bucky takes a steadying breath, just as an unmistakable voice comes up on his left.

"You clean up well, Buck." Steve is smiling, followed closely by Sam and Tony, all carrying drinks.

Bucky relaxes a bit and shakes his friends' hands, still watching Shuri out of the corner of his eye. 

"Yeah, well, you guys don't look too shabby, I guess," he jokes, and they all chuckle.

"You not drinkin' tonight man?" Sam asks.

Bucky shakes his head. "Nah, I'm on duty, you know that. Anyway, I had enough last night." That's a lie. The serum still runs steadily through Bucky's veins, and it takes an awful lot for him to get sloshed.

"Sure," Sam says, but drops it. "Man, T'Challa has really outdone himself. This place is somethin' else." He gives a low whistle. 

Bucky grins proudly, but shakes his head. "The design was all Shuri." That's apparent from the rich, vibrant colors and Wakandan artwork, but also from the modern furniture and sleek technology that is subtly incorporated into the entirety of the facility.

"Remind me to have her come to the compound and do some redesigns," Tony interjects as he looks around as well.

Bucky rolls his eyes in amusement. "I think she's gonna be pretty busy for a while, Stark."

Tony simply chuckles.

"This really is amazing, Buck. You guys are going to do a lot of good here," Steve says earnestly, and Bucky appreciates the kind sentiment.

"So anyway, when's the music gettin' started?" Sam asks. "I'm ready to tear it up out there."

Steve shakes his head, laughing. "Sam, this isn't a club, it's a fancy gala. I don't think there's gonna be any dancing."

Tony looks up from his phone. "What, are you kidding? I thought the invitation said something about music and dancing after dinner? I'll handle this, let me turn on some tunes. I don't think Pretty Princess'll mind." He winks at Bucky, swiping and tapping busily on his screen as he attempts to get into Shuri's system to turn on music. Bucky doesn't know what it is about Tony's nickname for her that drives him crazy, but it does. Shuri doesn't mind it. She actually finds it amusing, so he always lets it slide. There's just something about the _way_ Tony grins smugly whenever he says it.

Before Tony can do any real damage, Bucky swats his arm. " _Easy_ , Stark, music's comin'. Shuri has everything planned out, so just be patient."

Tony shrugs and puts his phone away, half-full glass in his other hand, and takes a sip of his drink. 

"Hey," Sam taps Bucky on the chest, "who's that?"

Bucky's gaze follows that of his friend to where Shuri stands. She's hugging someone else now.

Her arms are draped around the man's neck. He's slightly taller than Bucky, a bit leaner, but clearly still muscular, and wearing a well-tailored, slim-fit burgundy suit. 

What catches Bucky's attention is the man's skin; it's a rich shade of indigo. And if he isn't mistaken, that's a tail protruding from a small opening in the back of the suit. The long, thin appendage twitches lazily at the stranger’s feet, and is capped off by a speared tip. His shiny, blue-black hair is long at the top, artfully draping to the side and falling into one eye. The blue and onyx tresses taper into a sharp fade, showing off his slightly pointed ears, and a neatly trimmed beard covers the lower half of his face.

Bucky knows about mutants. Wanda is one, of course, and there are a small handful in Wakanda. But he's never seen one like this. He can only assume that's what this man is.

Shuri looks extremely comfortable with this person, whoever he is. She's beaming as she pulls away slightly, but her arms stay on the man's shoulders. His hands lightly rest at her waist, and they're chatting away excitedly. Bucky really notices his hands, then. They're average in size, but instead of five fingers, he has three slightly thicker ones. 

Realizing that he's staring, Bucky relaxes his expression and turns back to his pals. He catches a sympathetic look from Steve, but doesn't acknowledge it. "I'm not sure who that is..." He's wracking his brain, mentally running through the guest list to see if he can place the blue stranger, when Shuri calls out and waves him over.

He sighs. "I'll catch up with you guys later," he says, and makes his way over to her, leaving Sam, Tony, and Steve staring after him without a backward glance.

As he approaches, the mystery friend turns to face Bucky head on, and he's startled yet again- the man's eyes are a glowing, golden yellow. His lips curl up into a sly grin, and sharp canines are visible. Up close, Bucky can see that his skin is covered in strange, subtle symbols that seem to be etched in.

Shuri squeezes Bucky's arm excitedly as her eyes meet his own. "Bucky, I'd like you to meet someone. This is my very good friend, Nightcrawler. He's one of the X-Men. Elf, I'd like you to meet James Buchanan Barnes." Bucky's ears prickle at the nickname Shuri uses for this stranger.

The X-Men - a team of mutant superheroes based out of New York. The wheels start turning in Bucky's head. He's heard of them. They've worked with the Avengers a handful of times. He knows a few of them stayed in Wakanda, briefly, when they needed help on a mission while he was still recovering, but he never got to meet any of them himself.

Bucky reaches out to shake the Nightcrawler's hand, and is surprised to feel not smooth skin, but soft, short fur, almost like velvet. 

" _Guten abend_ , James. Pleased to meet you."

"Bucky," he answers automatically, eyebrows raising at the thick German accent.

"Bucky. Forgive me. I'm Kurt Wagner."

***  
(If anyone is curious, [this](https://goo.gl/images/uUd386) is the Kurt I picture in this story, from the _X-Men: Red_ comic book run.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I hope you all don't hate me?! Nightcrawler has always been one of my favorite X-Men. In the comics, he's super flirty, and dashing, and quite the ladies' man, and for some reason my brain just inserted him into this story. To me, there is something very intriguing and beautiful about his appearance, and he's so lovable. Almost everyone on the X-Men calls him "Elf" because of his adorably pointed ears, and I really wanted Shuri to do that too lol.
> 
> Anyway, Bucky is all discombobulated now, and I'm curious to know what you all think? Kudos and comments are always appreciated! 
> 
> (Disclaimer: I do not own any Marvel characters mentioned in this story.)
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


	3. Stumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pressure in his chest, the gnawing in his stomach, the ache in his shoulders - they all tell him a different story than the one he's been telling himself. 
> 
> He's stumbling under the weight of his love for her and his guilt, and he's not so sure he can cover it anymore.

Bucky feels like someone has pulled the floor out from underneath him.

_This_ is the infamous Kurt? 

Odd appearance notwithstanding, the man is suave, and rather handsome. The blue skin and glowing eyes actually add to his charm, somehow. He has an easy demeanor and a wicked smile. 

Shuri obviously cares for him.

Something ugly twists in Bucky’s gut, and it takes everything in him to calmly smile back and carry on casual conversation as though he isn’t burning on the inside.

He doesn’t get much on how the two met- just that Kurt was part of the team that stayed in Wakanda years back when they were seeking asylum for some crime they didn’t commit. 

He’s half-listening, and Shuri is asking after things at The Xavier Institute, when Bucky's hackles raise.

" _Alles ist gut_ ," Kurt replies. "But, zere's always room for one more. You're not a mutant, but everyone vould love to have you." He winks at the Princess.

The charming smile being thrown her way makes Bucky want to vomit. Astoundingly, he manages to hold it in. He looks to his left at Shuri's grin, but she shakes her head at Kurt. "I told you last night, Elf, I'm not ready to move permanently. But maybe I'll come for a short visit soon. I do miss you." Bucky feels the bile rising again.

So _that's_ what she had meant last night in her text. Somehow, this debonair stranger trying to convince Shuri to leave the safety and familiarity of her home to stay with him is much worse than anything Bucky's mind had initially conjured up. 

When Nightcrawler turns his way and attempts to get Bucky on his side, Bucky's gaze hardens.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," he grits through clenched teeth. "Shuri is perfectly happy and _safe_ in Wakanda. Besides, she has her hands full here. I doubt she has time for whatever... plans you've got for her." All three of them are a bit surprised at the venom in his words. 

He really should bring it down a notch, but fuck that.

Ever the gentleman, Kurt's eyes only widen a tiny fraction, and then his expression returns to one of open friendliness. Bucky wants to punch the look right off of his chiseled face. 

The man chuckles and raises a hand defensively, nodding. "Fair enough. I guess if anyone vould know zat, it vould be her bodyguard, no?" Kurt turns, then, and lightly brushes Shuri's chin with his fingers. "Can't blame me for trying, _liebchen_." Shuri giggles and nudges him with her elbow, but not before shooting Bucky a quick glare that clearly says, _Behave_.

His face grows warm, but he just shifts on his feet and crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

The tense conversation is cut short when Bucky notices guests being escorted into the adjoining room set up for after dinner.

Before he realizes what's happening, a blue hand reaches out toward Shuri and Kurt bows deeply, drawing an amused smirk from her. "Shall vee?" She places her delicate hand in his and looks toward Bucky, sharp eyes narrowed.

But when she speaks, her voice is soft, "Buck?"

He understands her question. She knows he's irritated, and she's asking for his approval. She doesn't usually do that.

Bucky exhales and forces his mouth into a smile that he's sure is more of a grimace. "Enjoy yourself, doll." He tilts his head toward the dance floor. "I'll watch your back."

To his credit, Kurt's face doesn't show even a hint of gloating, though Bucky's sure the man probably wants to. " _Herr Barnes_ ," he says politely, nodding once.

Bucky returns the nod and watches the two saunter off together, Shuri's hips already beginning to sway to the music.

* * *

She mingles and laughs, and weaves a spell around everyone in her vicinity. Bucky's eyes couldn't leave her even if they wanted to. 

She dances with Ross, and a few others. 

Tony even gets a dance. Bucky watches as his friend steps back, holding the Princess at arm's length to get a good look at her in her dress. He frowns when Tony leans in to whisper something, wearing a sly grin, and Shuri punches him (fairly) lightly on the arm. She laughs, though, and Bucky relaxes, shaking his head. They sway to the music, and Tony is closer than necessary, hands resting on her waist. She laughs at another one of his, no doubt crass, jokes. 

Fucking Stark. Forever the playboy. But Bucky isn't really worried about it. Stark is more bark than bite (or at least Bucky hopes so). And he's certain Tony knows, after last night, that he has _some_ sort of feeling toward Shuri; his friend wouldn't knowingly trample on him that way. 

The music is eclectic. It's a mix of everything- pop, R & B, classic rock. The atmosphere really picks up when "Oh My Gosh" comes on. It's one of his favorite Yemi Alade songs, and he can't help but bob his head a bit.

It's a favorite of Shuri, as well, and his pulse ticks up as he watches her wind and shake her hips to the catchy track. 

His mood sours again when Kurt sidles up in front of her. How many dances does he need? She tries to teach him a couple of dance moves, and the X-Man does surprisingly well as he gazes at Shuri adoringly, attempting to mimic her movements.

Just then, Bucky spies his fellow guards across the floor, and they nod. "You holding up alright, Ingcuka?" he hears over their comms.

"All good. How 'bout you ladies?"

"Good."

"Good." They answer collectively.

"How's it goin' over here?"

"Stevie," Bucky says, turning toward his friend. He wears a warm smile, but Bucky can read the pity in his eyes.

"You doin' okay?" 

Why does everyone keep asking that? Bucky smiles and shrugs. "Always. You? I've hardly seen you dance."

"Just wanted to check on you," Steve replies in that concerned tone. As much as Bucky appreciates it, he really doesn't want to do this right now.

"I'm fine, Steve, thanks." He doesn't mean to be as short with his friend as he sounds, but his patience is wearing thin. His shoulders feel heavy, and his stomach is one giant ulcer by this point.

Steve simply nods, then stands beside him in silence.

A slower song has come on, one he doesn't recognize, and his eyes track Shuri as she’s twirled gracefully by Kurt. She beams, and Bucky is losing the battle on reigning in his jealousy once again.

He clears his throat and nudges Steve. "Can you stay here and guard while I take a minute? Just need to hit the head real quick." 

Understanding blue eyes look back at him. "Sure, Buck."

Then, to Emiola and Folade, Bucky announces that he's taking a restroom break, leaving Steve in his place, and they answer in the affirmative.

He throws one more glance in Shuri's direction, then stalks off toward the darkened hallway.

* * *

He does actually use the restroom. That takes all of one minute. 

As he makes his way back toward the party, the thundering music reaches his ears again, and Bucky's footsteps slow. He's not quite ready to go back out there. 

It's only been a couple of minutes since he took his break. No one should be missing him yet, and he trusts the Dora and Steve to keep an eye on the Princess without him for a few minutes longer.

Slipping up to one of the balconies on the third floor, he leans over the cool metal of the railing and hangs his head. 

How has he gotten to this point? 

Not just tonight, but all of it. Bucky realizes he's spent almost every waking moment of the last five years denying, ignoring, suppressing his emotions for the woman downstairs. He's flagellated himself again and again for feeling the way he does; Shuri's too pure and good. He's nothing but an animal, a killer, a broken shell. 

But _damnit_ if her name isn't written all over him. Shuri's been mending him every single day since that first, and he's unwittingly allowed her to weave her very essence into every fiber of his. 

It’s practically second nature now to push those thoughts aside, convincing himself that it's inappropriate; he's ancient, and dirty, and nothing, while she's brilliant, and everything. She _deserves_ everything. What could he possibly give her?

Now, standing on the sidelines while some other man attempts to sweep her off her feet, Bucky is second-guessing his rationale for keeping the Princess at arm's length. 

The pressure in his chest, the gnawing in his stomach, the ache in his shoulders - they all tell him a different story than the one he's been telling himself. Can he really stand by and watch as she falls in love and makes a life with someone else?

And Bucky knows that he would, if that's what's best for her. But _god_ is it killing him, figuratively but also, quite possibly, literally. He's stumbling under the weight of his love for her and his guilt, and he's not so sure he can cover it anymore.

Both hands run through his brown locks before he remembers that he still has to look presentable, and he curses. He tries to fix his hair as best he can. Breathing in the crisp night air one more time, his hands squeeze the railing for a second, and then he heads back down to his post. His finger taps the tiny button behind his right ear, and he lets the Dora know he's on his way back.

Just as Bucky hits the last step and rounds the corner, he nearly runs head-on into slender brown curves wrapped in bronze silk and sequins.

All the blood drains from his face and he wants to turn right back around, but he stands firm.

"Your Highness. What are you doing back here?"

Smoky brown eyes stare into his, relief apparent in them. "I was looking for _you_ , you goat," she teases, poking a sharp finger into his chest. "You disappeared, like, ten minutes ago."

_Shit_. He hadn't meant to be gone that long. 

He sighs. "Sorry 'bout that, doll, just needed a bathroom break. I'm not a machine, you know." He smirks, but her brow furrows at his hollow chuckle.

While she's studying him, Bucky has enough time to pull himself together, and he places a hand to the small of her back, gently turning her so they can get back to the gala. Before he can take another step, Shuri pauses.

"Buck."

"We can head back, I didn't mean to drag you away from everyone." And he can't quite keep the bitterness all the way out of his voice. He tries to move forward again.

Shuri doesn't budge. _"James."_ Oh. He is in trouble. She almost never uses that authoritative tone with him, and he winces at the fact that he's made her use it now.

The words in his throat catch as he takes in the sight of her again. She is somehow even more lovely, otherworldly, in the dim lighting of the corridor. He can't stop from dragging his eyes all the way up her form. When they land on hers, his chest tightens.

Her tone is clipped, but her gaze shows worry and exasperation. She's staring at him like he holds some vital secret. He almost wants to laugh at how accurate that is.

Something settles in her expression, and she arches a brow. "Anything you want to tell me?" It's less a question than a statement. The lie is out of his mouth before he can stop it.

"No..." He tilts his head, feigning confusion.

She wordlessly steps forward, invading his personal space. They've stood close before. Something about this is different. Waves of frustration roll off of her, but there's something else, too, and it makes his head swim.

Slowly shaking her head, she never breaks eye contact. "Try again, Ingcuka."

His eyes slip shut for the briefest of moments at the sound of her low, husky voice uttering that name inches from his own face. 

When he opens them, her attention is on his left hand as she grazes his fingertips with her own. Bucky's breathing stutters. Her eyes flicker back up to his as she caresses his right hand then, running her fingers under the sleeve of his suit jacket and up his forearm.

Blood rushes to his groin instantly, and it's all he can do not to groan. Shuri's eyes flash as she watches his jaw clench. He averts his gaze, but she reaches up to lightly grasp his chin, bringing his head back to face her.

"Shuri, what are you doing?" he whispers. Bucky can see that her pupils are dilated, even in the low light.

"What did you think, Bucky? That I wouldn't notice? That I haven't noticed after all this time?" Her warm breath is soft as it brushes his face, and his heart is pounding now.

"We can't- you don't know what you're doin', angel..." He doesn't even realize the slip, until it's too late. He's never called her that aloud, and the soft gasp that escapes her lips heats his blood even more.

She moves her hand from his chin to his cheek and her eyes track the motion as she slowly swipes her thumb across his bottom lip.

Whatever control Bucky was holding onto is snapped in half. 

His right hand comes up to cradle her face, and then he's pulling her lips to his. They're supple, and sweet, and his skin tingles as the reality that he's finally kissing her hits him. But he doesn't have time to think anymore. Shuri's right hand reaches into his hair, while her other hand touches his left. In his haze, Bucky didn't even register that his Vibranium hand had reached out to hold her hip, pulling her warm, pliable body into his. 

Her fingers caress the metal and gold, and then she grasps his hand, moving it. 

He freezes, worried that he's gone too far, that she doesn't want him touching her this way. 

Instead of pushing it away, Shuri slides his hand around her hip to the skin just under the slit on her right thigh. Her lips part on a sharp inhale. She nips at his bottom lip, and he groans, slipping his tongue into her warm mouth to get a taste as she slides his hand further up under her dress. 

He's growing dizzy and desperate as his senses catalogue her taste, her smell, her sounds, every inch of her soft skin that his hands can touch. Everything else drops out of existence, even the dark hallway that currently surrounds them.

Shuri stiffens first, and then he hears the footsteps approaching. His blood runs cold and he quickly steps away, silently mourning the loss of her warmth. He tries to smooth his jacket, then hurriedly gestures for Shuri to walk ahead of him, avoiding her stare.

The footsteps turn out to belong to one of the lab assistants attending the event. Wandile graces the Princess with a slight bow and a polite smile, but otherwise barely acknowledges them, staring at his phone as he makes his way to the restroom.

Bucky's practically shaking from the adrenaline, and he kicks himself for being so reckless. He licks his lips and bites back a moan. They still taste like Shuri.

Before they reach the entrance to the atrium, she stops short and turns around, causing him to almost run into her. "We're not done here, Bucky."

His eyes widen for a split second, and then he's shaking his head. "Shuri-"

"Don't. _Don't_ tell me that was a mistake." The hurt in her eyes pierces straight through him. But he can't risk another close call. 

"That was... inappropriate on my part." He pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. Anything to avoid losing his resolve. That kiss was the best and most devastating thing to happen to him since he woke up under her watchful gaze, but he can't shake his fear - fear of the consequences she could face, of what people would say about her and the nature of their relationship, of all the ways he could possibly harm her. It paralyzes him. "I'm so sorry."

Her deep brown orbs are watery when he looks back to her, and he thinks he might actually want to die. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

"You're sure about that?" She's completely still, but her whole body is thrumming with hurt and anger. He wants to draw her back into his arms and kiss all of it away. He can't.

"I'm supposed to be protecting you, Shuri, not- it _was_ a mistake." The words are like ashes in his mouth.

She stays silent.

"It won't happen again," he says. 

"So that's it," her voice is barely audible, but it trembles. "You've already decided you know what's best for me?” 

Bucky opens his mouth, but she continues.

“Poor little innocent Shuri. I can't possibly know what I want or what's good for me. Some confused little girl being preyed on by an old man?" He winces at that. "Thank Bast you’re here to set me straight then, eh?"

He reaches out to her - to do what, exactly, he's not sure - but she shrinks away. 

In all their time together, she's never done that. Not when he would wake up in the lab thrashing about and fighting ghosts. Not when his moods would change wildly. Not when he knocked over one of her tables in frustration before the triggers were gone and he was losing hope.

To see her flinch away from him now, he knows he's hurt her worse than any physical injury could. In spite of himself, he thinks that she's so beautiful angry, and he curses himself for being such a prick. He has no right to think that, no right to have touched her the way he did, no right to be standing here in her presence now, aching for more.

When he remains silent, her face crumbles for barely half a second, and then it's as if nothing ever happened. Her expression is calm and detached. He almost wishes it would just kill him on the spot. 

She nods once and turns, striding through the hallway and back into the sea of guests eagerly awaiting her return as Bucky is left to trail behind her, unshed tears filling his eyes and clogging his throat.

* * *

The rest of the evening is a blur. Bucky stands by silently, guarding his charge and trying to keep his mind blank. 

For her part, Shuri appears completely unaffected, laughing more loudly, moving seamlessly through the crowd. He tries not to read into that.

By the time guests begin trickling out, she has managed to network with everyone in the room. Several people have pledged as donors and volunteers. She's even convinced one of the district superintendents to partner with the center for after-school programming.

Bucky can't help the flood of relief at the realization that everything has gone so well tonight. 

Well. Almost everything.

He's currently watching the Princess say a hushed goodbye to none other than Kurt Wagner, when Emiola approaches. "All clear here, Bucky. We're going to do a sweep and ensure everything else is secure."

He nods, gratefully. "Thanks, Em."

A few assistants are milling about, wrapping things up. He makes his way over to Shuri as she and Kurt embrace. He catches the tail end of their short exchange.

The taller man is whispering something into her ear, and her eyes close as she sighs. Kurt releases her from the hug, gently grasping her hands in his. She nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Bucky works hard not to frown at the emotion in those lovely dark eyes as they gaze up at the other man.

“Ahem.”

They turn their heads his way, but otherwise don’t move.

“We’re about ready, Your Highness. Folade and Emiola are doing a final sweep.” Bucky looks pointedly at the handsome man standing in front of her. Shuri simply glances up at Kurt, squeezing his hands briefly. He brings a hand to his lips and places a kiss there. _”Liebling.”_

Before heading for the door, Kurt nods once at Bucky, then makes his exit.

Bucky inhales deeply. “Shuri...“

“I’m heading back with the Dora.”

He doesn’t say anything. She’s using that tone with him again. 

“The guys invited us all out for drinks. I thought maybe you’d like to go?”

Something like sadness flickers across her face, and then it’s gone. “I’m tired, Bucky.”

He drops his head for a moment. “Alright,” he says. “Give me a second to let them know.”

“You can go. I’ll be alright.”

His stomach sinks.

When she speaks again, her tone is softer, “It’s okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, eyes lingering on hers. After a minute, the Dora return, and Shuri gives him a tight smile.

They all exit the building, everything shut down and locked up for the night.

Just then, Tony pulls up, revving the engine of the Audi with Sam and Steve in the back.

“You comin’, Barnes?”

Bucky throws one more glance Shuri’s way, but she just waves and bids them a goodnight, heading toward her vehicle with the Dora Milaje in tow.

As he climbs into the sleek sedan, his eyes continue to follow her retreating form until she’s out of sight.

No one says a word, but Bucky is sure the tension coming off of him speaks volumes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE don't not hate me!! I **promise** I'm going somewhere with this! I'm so sorry for the length of time between updates. Thank you so very much if you're still with me, you have no idea how much it means to me. Kudos and comments are always appreciated! <3
> 
> Also, German translations:
> 
> _Alles ist gut_. = Everything is good.
> 
> _Liebchen_ = sweetheart
> 
> _Liebling_ = darling


	4. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cracks are beginning to show.

“Are you certain?”

 

“...Yes”

 

“Shuri.”

 

“I’m sure, Kurt.”

 

Kurt. Kurt. The name rolls around in Bucky’s sleep-addled brain as he's pulled toward full-wakefulness.

 

“I’m glad I got to see you last night. It really has been too long.”

 

A low chuckle. “ _Finally_ , you see things my vay.”

 

It’s early, quiet, still. The muffled voices filter through the thin wall, waking him from his restless dreaming.

 

She snorts. “Anyway. Thank you, Fuzzy Elf.”

 

His eyes pop open at the endearment. Shuri. He registers her hushed tone, and now he is wide awake. 

 

Bucky can’t decipher what exactly they’re talking about. As he stirs in bed and sits up, he raises his right hand to scrub his face. Last night slowly comes back to him, and he groans. He had hoped that was just some fevered nightmare. Hearing the, now familiar, deep voice next door and Shuri’s answering lilt shoots ice through his veins.

 

The Princess isn’t alone. His mind races, wondering what the hell _he_ could possibly be doing at this hour in _her_ room. 

 

Glancing to the nightstand, he squints at the digital display. 4:27 a.m. Bucky suppresses another groan, and then stills at their next words.

 

“Thank _you_ , liebchen.”

 

“I’ll call you later.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Bucky’s chest heaves with the force of his rapid breathing, but he relaxes a bit at that. Just a call. Kurt’s not in her room. 

 

Not that it’s any of Bucky’s business. He’s her bodyguard, not her father. Or boyfriend. That last thought only leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

 

He flops back down on the bed and throws his forearm across his face. 

 

Something sounded off in Shuri’s voice, and he doesn’t want to think about what - or who - may have caused that. The brief flash of sadness in her eyes fills his mind again, and then he thinks of how easily she dismissed him last night. 

 

If only he had kept his shit together. He never would’ve stormed off. She never would’ve come to find him. They never would’ve kissed. He wouldn’t have pushed her away. But it's for her own good. She’s so young, there’s so much for her to see in this world, especially for someone like her. What can he bring her but pain and strife? And what would the elders say? She can't have the kind of life with him that she deserves. 

 

So he did what he must; he sacrificed, for her.

 

A small part of Bucky’s brain whispers, _Coward_. He throws off the covers and sits up again, ignoring the traitorous voice.

 

He can detect movement next door now. She sniffles, and Bucky's ears prickle. Without thinking, he grabs his phone.

 

_You ok?_

 

Silence. Several minutes pass, and his heart sinks. Just as he considers getting up for the day, he gets a reply.

 

 **Princess**  
4:51 AM  
_I'm good, thanks._

 

He frowns at the short response. 

 

It's Sunday, and nothing is on the agenda. Shuri wanted a day off before their final week in Oakland. Originally, she had talked about sightseeing, finding something fun and unusual to do. Now, he's not sure what the plan is. So for the second time in as many days, Bucky turns off his first alarm and rolls over in bed, struggling to shut out the dread creeping into his gut.

*

*

*

It's after eight when he steps out of the shower. Despite sleeping in, he’s even more exhausted than the day before. 

 

Bucky leans over the counter and stares at the haggard wretch looking back at him from the mirror. His eyes are sunken, dull. How is he going to face her today? 

 

After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he exits the bathroom, and promptly stops in his tracks.

 

There's a clear plastic takeout container on the nightstand with a note attached. Walking over cautiously, he relaxes when he recognizes Shuri's unique scrawl.

 

 _Thought you might want something to eat. Went on an errand with Emiola and Folade. Be back soon._

 

She must’ve snuck through their adjoining door while he was showering. 

 

How he’s managed to screw everything up between them is beyond him. He doesn’t know which is worse - silently pining away for the Princess with her unaware, or recklessly making a fool of himself the way he had.

 _Coward_ , that little voice whispers again.

 

He stares at her note for several minutes, and his heart breaks just a bit more. She’s never gone out without him on one of their details, and he has no idea what this means. The dread settles a little further.

 

After getting dressed, he tries to pick at the food she brought him (blueberry waffles, eggs, bacon, sausage, and hash browns), but he's too sick to eat.

*

*

*

When noon rolls around, and Shuri and the Dora still aren’t back, Bucky begins to panic.

 

After spending two hours in the hotel gym and taking another shower, he’s restless and anxious and lonely in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. His finger hovers over the "send" button, when his phone lights up.

 

 **Princess**  
12:13 PM  
_Just checking in. I know you worry. We’re fine, just lost track of time. Not sure when I’ll be back yet, but I’ll let you know._

 

He hangs his head and sighs. 

 

By the time Shuri finally does return, it’s dark. Bucky has tried, and failed, to read three different books on his tablet. He’s called Steve, even watched trash TV, but nothing calms the churning in his stomach until he hears her door open.

 

He hurriedly sits up on the end of his neatly made bed, debating on whether or not to rush right over, or give her a few minutes to settle in.

 

Shuri makes the decision for him. She’s barely knocked, but he’s already at the connecting door, trying hard not to fling it open.

 

Uncertain brown eyes meet his, but her face is expressionless.

 

For a second, Bucky can’t speak. He hasn’t seen her in nearly 24 hours, and he drinks in her tense presence like a man starved.

 

His eyes roam all over her tired visage. She clears her throat, causing a blush to creep up his neck and face.

 

“Hi.”

 

He waits for her to say something, _anything_ , else. She doesn’t.

 

“Where were you, Shuri?” It comes out a little sharper than he’d wanted.

 

Her brow arches. “Folade and Em wanted to do some shopping, and then I wanted to see the Redwoods. We stopped for dinner, so it took longer than I thought. I figured you could use the day off.”

 

“You couldn’t bother to tell me that?” 

 

She tenses her jaw at that. “I’m not a child. You may be my bodyguard, but I had the Dora with me, and I’m more than capable of making decisions for myself.”

 

For a minute he just watches her. Her posture doesn’t relax. It’s almost as if she’s challenging him.

 

“It’s my _job_ to know where you are and what you’re doing. I can’t do my job if you don’t keep me in the loop.” Bucky knows his tone is brittle. The last thing he wants to do with her is fight, but it’s like he’s outside of his body, watching himself dig deeper and deeper.

 

“Hmm. Your job,” she muses, her expression still unreadable.

 

“That’s-” He drags a hand through his disheveled mane. “You know what I mean.”

 

“What _do_ you mean, James? Perhaps you should have a think about what exactly it is that _your job_ entails, hm?”

 

Shit.

 

That sobers him. “Princess...” he pleads softly.

 

“Please, don’t.” Her gazes drops, and she takes a steadying breath.

 

His fingers twitch. He wants to slap himself. What the fuck is he doing?

 

When she looks back up, her voice is hollow. "I just wanted to let you know I'm back. I'll see you in the morning."

 

He presses his lips together, trying to smother the scream that wants to break forth. His head nods robotically. "Okay. Sleep well."

 

Then the door is closed. He simply stands there, staring at it as though he can see through, to her.

*

*

*

After a night of fitful, dreamless sleep, Bucky meets the Princess (who looks fresh as a daisy, of course) outside her room to head over to the center.

 

There's a field trip group coming from one of the local elementary schools, and she's been looking forward to it for weeks.

 

Despite appearing well-rested, she is quieter than usual, more reserved. 

 

Bucky feels like his throat is in a vice. He can't seem to find the right words to say. His hands tremble slightly. His lips are dry.

 

He can still taste her, and the memory of her sweet moans echoes in his brain, clouding his mind.

 

She is as efficient, as focused as ever. But she hardly smiles until about ten minutes before the school group is scheduled to show up.

 

Everett Ross strolls in, bearing a festive bag and a thick, unlabeled file. Bucky's brow furrows slightly, wondering at what could be inside both. He doesn't get to find out. Shuri looks inside the small bag and her entire countenance changes. 

 

She enfolds Ross in a brief, yet fierce hug, thanking him quietly. He shakes his head as if it's nothing, but Bucky doesn't miss the tinge of crimson that blooms on the man's cheeks. Ross congratulates her on a phenomenal success the night before. Bucky rolls his eyes as he goes on about how stunning she was, and she practically glows under the generous praise. Then, their voices lower as she gestures to the folder. From this distance, Bucky can only catch snippets as he leans against the far wall of her lab, but a shadow passes briefly across her face when she opens the file and gives the papers inside a cursory glance.

 

Leading Ross over to one of the computers, Shuri's eyes flicker Bucky's way, and then back to the man next to her as he asks a question.

 

The kids absolutely adore Shuri. She happily shows the third graders around the entire facility as they chatter excitedly, eyes wide and filled with awe. The tour ends in her lab, and she leads an experiment planned specifically for this occasion, and then lets the students play with her sand table.

 

Bucky watches it all in fascination. It's no secret that the Princess is good with children. He's seen it time and again back home, with the little ones from the villages neighboring his home. She is magnetic, and they flock to her whenever she visits. Something about watching her with them always soothes him.

 

Witnessing her enchant these young minds halfway across the world is no different. One little girl wearing bright colors catches his attention. Shuri has found herself a shadow. Her coily dark hair is styled into two buns, and her russet complexion contrasts with the cool grey of her eyes. She could almost be Shuri's mini, and the sudden ache in Bucky's heart at the sight is so acute that it steals his breath. 

 

Lost in thought, he doesn't hear the other man approach.

 

"She's good with them."

 

Bucky glances to his right, then back to the Princess. "Mm," he replies, noncommittal.

 

"I think they're cheering her up," Ross notes. His tone is neutral, but Bucky stiffens.

 

"I dunno what you mean."

 

A heavy sigh sounds beside him. "It's none of my business..."

 

"No. It isn't," Bucky bites out.

 

Ross is unfazed. "...but she’s not always as impervious as she pretends to be. Don’t take for granted that you’re always around...”

 

“What the _fuck_ would you know about any of that, Ross?” Bucky hisses. This man has never said more than two words to him and now all of a sudden he’s giving advice?

 

The other man chuckles mirthlessly. “Look, heed my words, don’t heed my words; I don’t care. But I’ve known her a bit longer than you have. She deserves to know the truth. She doesn't need you deciding everything for her. Take it from someone who’s been there. Or one day you’ll open your eyes and realize you’ve let too many opportunities pass you by.” 

 

Bucky picks up on the melancholy in that last statement, and he turns to Everett Ross once more, eyebrows raised. He doesn’t return Bucky’s stare, just gazes ahead at the Princess, and realization dawns on Bucky like a slap in the face. “You...”

 

Ross cuts him off. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two. But I’m not new, Barnes, and you're not as unreadable as you think. Whatever you’re trying to do, figure your shit out. I won’t see her hurt.” The quiet menace in those words sends hot anger through him, and then something like pity for the man standing next to him. Before Bucky can respond, Ross checks his phone, then moves toward Shuri.

 

Bucky doesn’t hear their exchange, but he watches the agent more closely now, and he detects a hint of wistfulness in those blue-grey eyes as they look at her.

 

Ross leaves shortly thereafter, throwing a terse nod Bucky’s way before heading out.

 

The faint beginnings of a migraine scrape at the inside of Bucky's skull.

*

*

*

When Bucky looks up, the week is almost over. He wonders at how time could simultaneously drag and rush by in such a blinding fog.

 

Each day seemed to weigh him down more than the last. Shuri’s mood has picked up almost imperceptibly, and they’re speaking a bit more. But gone are the affectionate jokes and warm glances.

 

They head back home tomorrow morning, and he’s got to rectify this somehow. He sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, listening to sad music and trying to refrain from knocking on their adjoining door. It’s late. She’s been going to bed early every night this week, and she is no doubt asleep by now.

 

No matter what he does, he can’t shut his mind down. It nags him that he still doesn’t know what Ross brought her on Monday. He hasn’t seen the bag or the file folder again, and she won’t mention it to him.

 

_Take it from someone who’s been there. Or one day you’ll open your eyes and realize you’ve let too many opportunities pass you by._

 

So Ross had been smitten with the Princess. Shuri seems completely unaware, but from their short conversation a few days ago, Bucky is sure the man will always carry a little bit of a torch for her. He sighs and laughs bitterly.

 

Can he really blame him?

 

_Whatever you’re trying to do, figure your shit out._

 

The faint rapping nearly makes him jump out of his skin. 

 

What is she doing awake?

 

He opens the door to find her nervously wringing her hands, and he aches with the need to take them in his own.

 

"What are you doin' up so late, doll?"

 

Her eyes soften momentarily at the nickname. "We need to talk, Buck."

 

Just like that, his heart is beating its way out of his ribcage, and he forgets to breathe. He nods, gesturing for her to cross the threshold into his room.

 

He watches as she slowly makes her way over to the dresser across from his bed, leaning against the dark wood.

 

His left hand rubs at the back of his neck as he attempts to gather his thoughts. "Shuri I-"

 

"I'm going to New York."

 

His head whips up to meet her gaze. All he can do is stare blankly.

 

"Just for a few days."

 

"What, um... when?"

 

"Tomorrow. I've already told T'Challa, so he's aware."

 

Bucky frowns. "Is this a business trip, or a personal one?"

 

Shuri's eyes narrow, and she crosses her arms over her chest, but he doesn't back down. "I'll be staying in Manhattan for a few days. I just need a break, Bucky." And she looks so weary that it makes his own shoulders sag. 

 

After a moment, he nods. "I'll have to ask Themba to look after Ade and Zuwa for a few more days." It's no secret that Bucky adores his goats. Shuri always teases that they're his babies, and he spoils them rotten. The village children love to come by to feed them and play, and Bucky usually pays one of the older local boys to look after them when he's away with the Princess. If they're coming back later than expected, he'll have to make sure they're taken care of until he returns home.

 

"Actually," Shuri is chewing on her bottom lip, and he wonders why she appears so nervous, "the Dora and I will be going. You can drop us at Xavier's, and then continue on home."

 

Bucky's entire body goes cold. 

 

"Why?" The question slips out before he can stop it. He doesn't mean for it to sound so needy, but it can't be helped. The thought of simply dropping her off, _leaving_ her, with people he doesn't know in a place he's never been sets off every alarm bell in his head. In his three years of service to the Princess, he's never once not accompanied her on a trip. As ludicrous as it is, he doesn't trust anyone with her safety as much as he trusts himself (other than the Queen Mother, or T'Challa, of course). He hates himself for thinking it. He knows every one of the Dora Milaje - hell, every citizen of Wakanda - would die before they would let anything happen to their beloved treasure. She was perfectly fine before he came along, and she would be fine long after he was gone. And then the sickening thought that she is relieving him of his duties nearly stops his heart altogether.

 

"Relax, Bucky. I just think you could use a break, too." It's not a request. 

 

He studies her face, cataloging every minute detail. She needs a break from him. She's too kind to say it, but Bucky knows that's what it is. And he really has no one to blame but himself.

 

"Okay, Shuri." He can only stand there, fists clenched, heart in his throat. For a second, he thinks she might say something else. Her eyes meet his, and they seem to be pleading with him, but he must be imagining it.

 

He's paralyzed, left mute by the crushing weight that presses down further and further, squeezing his lungs. This is what it feels like to suffocate.

 

"We'll leave early." She pushes off from the dresser and glides forward, stopping right in front of him. "Try to get some sleep, eh?" Another command. This one is gentler, quieter. He doesn't meet her eyes then. He can't. If he does, there's no telling what idiotic thing he might do. She's close, almost as close as she was that night, and her scent slithers into his nostrils like perfume. 

 

His voice escapes as a strangled whisper. "Yeah."

 

Then she's moving around him, back to her side. When the door clicks closed, his knees buckle and he drops down onto the bed behind him.

*

*

*

Loading the Angel doesn't take as long as he'd hoped. They get the sleek aircraft packed and ready to go in record time, but Bucky's feet drag as he walks to the cockpit and gets it started up. 

 

Of course, Shuri built the small ship for her own personal travel. But she let Bucky name it. The elegant design and raw power had the Princess written all over it, so he named it for her.

 

After preliminary checks and setting the flight plan, everyone buckles up, and they settle in for their trip.

*

*

*

The mansion is enormous. Not nearly as grand or technologically advanced as anything he's seen in Wakanda, but still fairly massive. As they descend, a cloud of purple and black smoke catches his attention, and he does a double take when a tall, blue form materializes.

 

So _that's_ his ability.

 

Kurt greets Shuri happily when they exit the craft, Bucky trudging behind with the luggage. The other man smiles warmly as he embraces her. Then he holds out a hand to Bucky, who reluctantly takes it and shakes once. 

 

"Good to see you again, Bucky."

 

He glances at the Princess, who is eyeing him sharply, and he plasters what he hopes is a smile onto his tired face.

 

"Take care of her," he says. 

 

The other man nods. "Of course."

 

Shuri walks toward him then, and Kurt, Emiola, and Folade give them a bit of privacy.

 

"I'll be _fine_."

 

"I know, Princess." They stand there awkwardly, and Bucky wants to beg her to come back on the plane with him. To come back home, and please forgive him, just let things go back to normal. He knows, though, that that isn't fair.

 

Abruptly, she steps in and wraps her slender arms around his neck in a surprisingly strong grip. He drops her bags, forgetting everything but the sensation of her chest pressed against his, warm breath in his ear. His eyes flutter shut, and he lifts his arms to hug her in return. He dwarfs her tiny frame, large hands gingerly pressing to her back.

 

It's over way too soon, and then she's stepping back next to Kurt, the Dora on her other side. Bucky reaches down for her bags and moves toward the mansion, but Shuri stops him.

 

"Kurt can get us inside in a flash," she smirks.

 

"Right." He hands the suitcases to the X-Man, then nods at Folade and Em. The two women respond with short salutes and gentle smiles. Before she disappears in a puff of sulfurous smoke, Shuri gives him a small wave. Then she's gone.

 

Bucky turns stiffly and re-boards the ship. Settling into the pilot's seat, he contemplates the screen in the cockpit, and then gets an idea. He's already in New York, he might as well. A little pit stop could do him some good.

*

*

*

If Bucky wasn't so tense, the comical expression would cause him to laugh. Instead, the corners of his mouth raise grimly, and he shrugs his shoulders.

 

"Hey, Stevie."

 

"Buck!" His best friend declares, in disbelief. "What are you doing here? Where's Shuri?"

 

Bucky holds up his duffel and walks through the open door, a new sense of purpose in his step. "I need a favor."

 

He knows it's silly. Excessive. Paranoid. But he can't shake the cloud of unease that's been gathering around him since Shuri told him she would be staying at X-Men headquarters. The cloud only thickened as she released him from their hug and slipped away behind closed doors in a flash of smoke

 

It was a last-minute decision to come here, an impulsive one. The Angel was far too quiet on the short flight to the Avengers compound. He couldn't even hear his heart pounding in his ears anymore. He's sure it's because it's currently in a large brick mansion in Central Park. It calms his mind the slightest bit that Emiola and Folade are with her. Still, he needs to ease the rising anxiety if he's going to make it all the way back to Wakanda without losing his mind.

 

Besides, Shuri gave him time off - there's no harm in seeing his friends one more time before continuing home.

 

 

Steve leads him to one of the empty bedrooms so he can get settled. 

 

"How long you planning on staying?" 

 

Bucky throws his pack onto the bed. "Just a couple'a days. You sure it's okay?"

 

Steve snorts. "Of course." He's leaned up against the doorframe, watching Bucky for several moments, concern and confusion etched into his brow. "What brings you here?"

 

Bucky leans back on the bed, staring out the window. "What? A man can't surprise his pal with a long overdue visit?" He grins, but when he turns to look up at the door, Steve doesn't return the gesture. He simply raises an eyebrow, shoving his hands into his pockets.

 

Bucky exhales swiftly. "Alright. Shuri gave me the next week off. Asked me to drop her at Xavier's. Her new friend _Kurt_ invited her to stay for a few days." He practically spits the name out. It's childish, but he's bitter, and Steve won't give him too much flack for it.

 

Steve's eyes go wide for a millisecond, and then he regains composure. "Somethin' going on there?"

 

"I don't know. She's never mentioned the guy once. Then, out of nowhere, they're texting and hugging like old friends. You should've seen the way she looked at him at the gala. It was like..."

 

"Buck."

 

He releases his iron grip on the comforter, smoothing it out absently, trying to calm his breathing. "I haven't traveled _once_ without her since I started protecting her. It feels... _wrong_. I don't even know what to do with myself." A humorless chuckle passes his lips, and he shakes his head slightly.

 

Steve nods in understanding. "You guys have been back and forth almost every week for the last three months. You both have to be exhausted." He sighs then, and rushes out the next part. "After the gala, maybe you both need a break."

 

Bucky's eyes flicker up to Steve's and he just stares. Then his whole body deflates, and he hunches over, elbows resting on his knees as he examines the floor. Neither of them speak for a while. Steve eventually moves toward the bed. He sits down next to his friend, but remains silent. 

 

"What the hell was I thinking, Steve?" 

 

Bucky had eventually told him about the kiss. After Shuri had gone back to the hotel following the gala, he and the guys went out for drinks. Bucky had been uncomfortably silent until Steve finally asked. At the time, the man offered no advice, simply listened to Bucky talk, letting him vent. That's not what he needs now, though. He's tired of people tiptoeing around him. What Bucky needs right now are answers. Honesty.

 

"I shouldn't have kissed her. She was just _right there_. She touched me, and," he shudders at the memory of her fingers tracing the skin of his hands, his forearm, his lips. "I forgot what I'd been fighting so hard against. None of it seemed to matter, except her. And then Wandile showed up, and I panicked. We're lucky he didn't see us."

 

"What are you really worried about, Buck?"

 

Bucky wasn't expecting that. He turns his head to look at the man beside him, but finds he can't articulate it all. There are so many things that _could_ happen if his feelings for Shuri were found out. He could be dismissed from his duties, reassigned to the Hatut Zeraze where he'd hardly ever see her again. He could lose his house, his citizenship. He knows all anyone would see, especially the King, is an old white man who'd gotten too close to the Princess and plotted to take advantage. Rumors would fly about the two of them, even though she'd done nothing wrong. Her reputation would be questioned. None of those outcomes sound _good_.

 

But what exactly are his options? He honestly doesn't know if he could simply resign as her bodyguard. He is certainly getting worse at hiding his feelings. She was furious when he told her their kiss was a mistake. Bucky thinks that may be more so because Shuri hates being told what to do, more than anything, and that's exactly what he'd done. Now, with this Nightcrawler thrown into the equation, he asks himself if he can stomach witnessing the two of them together.

 

"I don't know, Steve." His voice is timid, trembling.

 

"Come on," Steve pats him on the back. "Why don't we get something to eat? We can talk about this later."

*

*

*

Neither of them speak much, and Bucky enjoys the quiet. His mind is blessedly blank while they sit in companionable silence, some cooking show playing on the television in the background.

 

"Barnes!"

 

_Of course._

 

"Hey, Tony." Bucky sets his plate down and leans forward in his seat. 

 

"What brings you 'round these parts? Shouldn't you be back in Wakanda with the Princess by now?"

 

"Tony," Steve warns quietly, and Bucky picks up on the subtle shake of his head.

 

He inhales, then waves his friend off. "It's fine." Then Bucky turns to Tony. "Shuri gave me some time off."

 

Tony cocks his head, and Bucky inwardly groans. He's not going to let this go. "She's staying in Central Park for a few days. With the X-Men."

 

Understanding sparks in Tony's eyes, and he nods. "Ah. Blue Boy."

 

Bucky snorts. "Yeah," he grits out. He sinks back into the couch then, peaceful mood effectively dashed.

 

Steve's phone vibrates, startling them all. He glances at the screen and curses.

 

"Ooh-"

 

" _Can it_ , Tony."

 

Bucky frowns. Apparently, he's not in on the joke.

 

"You ok?," he asks.

 

Steve sighs. "No, yeah. I forgot, Sam and I are supposed to go to this thing. He's been planning it for weeks, and I promised..."

 

"Go," Bucky says. "I'm a big boy. I'll be alright."

 

"You sure?" Skeptical blue eyes meet his, and Bucky can't help but chuckle.

 

" _Yes_ , Stevie. Enjoy yourselves. I'll be here when you get back. If that's still okay...?"

 

"Of course, of course. We should be back tonight. Make yourself at home." Steve stands from the couch and heads for his room to get changed, but not before throwing a warning look Tony's way, to which the other man responds with a scoff and a "Shoo!".

 

Before Bucky can stand, he's halted by the voice across the room.

 

"Hey, Barnes," Tony approaches the couch and sits. "Hang on a sec." Crossing his legs, Stark leans back, studying Bucky for a moment. "You good?"

 

That's new. While he and Tony have become friends over the years, they rarely ever spend any time together without anyone else around, and Tony usually doesn't express so much concern for his well-being.

 

Bucky clears his throat and nods automatically. "Sure. Just tired."

 

"Look, I'm not here to make fun of you, promise. I know I give you a hard time, and we have a... _rocky_ history. But I actually do kinda like you." Bucky chuckles before Tony continues. "That girl is all you ever talk about, and you shine like the damn sun anytime she's around. So after last week, and seeing you crawl in here like a lost puppy now, I have to ask..."

 

Bucky tilts his head back and gazes briefly at the ceiling, as if the answer is up there, just waiting to fall into his lap. Oh, what the hell. "What do you know about this Kurt Wagner guy?"

 

"Hm. Not a whole lot. We've worked with the X-Men a few times. That Ororo - you know Storm?"

 

Bucky nods. He's not familiar, but Shuri has mentioned her a handful of times. From what he understands, she and T’Challa dated years ago and almost got married, but broke things off before they could go through with it. They remained friends, and Shuri is actually still close with the weather manipulator (her mutant ability, apparently). But life as a leader of the X-Men didn’t leave much time for visits, and so Bucky had never officially met her, or any of her teammates. Until now.

 

Tony goes on. "I've asked her out a few times. Never gives me the time of day, but I mean, come on, a man's gotta try."

 

The chuckle that bubbles forth from Bucky's chest as he shakes his head at the other man's antics provides some much-needed levity. "You're a mess, man."

 

Tony shrugs, amused smirk gracing his face. "Yeah, well. Anyway, they're pretty secretive. Other than their names and abilities, there isn't a whole lot on public record. Since they moved the school after years of trouble out in Salem Center, they try to keep to themselves, other than missions. They have all those kids, and the world still isn't a totally safe place for mutants, so they have to be careful."

 

Bucky grunts in understanding. "What about Nightcrawler?" A man that unique can't possibly fly under the radar.

 

Tony squints for a second, wracking his brain. "Teleporter. Able to blend into darkness and become near-invisible. Acrobatic abilities. He was raised in the Munich Circus, I think, when he was a kid. That's about it. Like I said, they try to keep a low profile. He's pretty private."

 

"What's he like, as a person?" 

 

"Always seemed like a good guy. He's a charmer; bit of a flirt, but harmless." Tony is quiet for a beat. Then, "So I'm gonna ask you again - why are you _here_?"

 

Bucky looks up, prepared to answer, but he catches Tony's abruptly stern expression. "I couldn't just _leave_ her." It's nearly a whisper. 

 

"So you stayed, to keep an eye on her. Like an overbearing parent," Tony deadpans.

 

Hot anger swiftly sparks in Bucky's gut, but it's extinguished just as quickly at the truth of the accusation. 

 

"You're going to hear a lot of different opinions on this, especially if you keep on moping around like you're doing now. But think about this for two seconds: How long are you going to protect that girl - _woman_ \- the way you've been doing?" He holds up a hand. "And before you say 'it's my job!,' stop."

 

Bucky closes his mouth and waits for Tony to finish his thought, effectively chastened.

 

"She has two of the deadliest, sharpest women on the planet with her, in a house full of superheroes with enhanced abilities, in a fortress _almost_ as secure as this one. So that's not a good excuse. And it is, specifically, _not_ your job to protect her from _life_ , Barnes. You keep running around, making choice after choice in her place. I can tell that it's second nature to you. She's everything good, and light, and uncorrupted in the world, right?"

 

Bucky nods once. 

 

"Then just let yourself _love_ her, Bucky. Give her the benefit of the doubt, for once. You don't have the benefit of objectivity in this anymore, but she might actually surprise you."

 

Bucky clenches and unclenches his fists as he listens. The glint of the metal from his left hand catches his eye, and he studies it.

 

"Or don't," Tony says. "But _this_ ," he waves a hand in Bucky's general direction, "isn't sustainable for either of you. Do you really want what's best for her?"

 

Bucky doesn't hesitate. "Always."

 

"Then go home. Trust her as much as she trusts you, and give her space. Recharge, figure out what you need to do to fix this. And when she gets back, _talk_ to her."

*

*

*

When the sun peeks over the horizon, the Angel is just touching down on the tarmac. Wakandan sunrises truly are the most beautiful in the world. 

 

Knowing his heart and mind are still an ocean away mutes the melding of color and light just a bit, but he takes it in all the same.

 

Bucky feels lighter than he has in seven days. Fear and uncertainty still sit in his chest, but Tony's words have been following him the entire flight, and they stir hope, as well. 

 

One way or another, he's ready to set things right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this isn't dragging for you all! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, although, it took a while lol. Please let me know what you think! Thank you very much for continuing on this journey with me! Kudos and comments are always _greatly_ appreciated! <3


	5. Grounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world flips on its head, and Bucky is left scrambling for solid ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one! Kind of an apology for being late with this update (hopefully you like having more to read lol). This chapter is a bit of a rollercoaster, so I apologize in advance for being dramatic lmao. I really hope you enjoy this. Thank you so very much for still taking this ride with me. Kudos and comments are always appreciated! <3

In the last three years, Bucky has made this trek a million times.

 

Walking down the ramp, stepping onto the tarmac, finding his vehicle - the path is so familiar, he could do it blind and deaf without missing a step. This place smells and feels like home, and he swears Wakanda is in his veins. 

 

As he climbs into his sleek SUV, he sends a message to Themba, letting the teenager know he doesn't need to check in on the goats today.

 

 

It's usually quiet out here. The nearest village is a thirty-minute walk away, and nothing but trees and water surround the modest cabin. This morning, though, the silence is almost oppressive.

 

Sweltering heat already begins to lick at his skin with the rising sun. 

 

After checking his babies (Ade and Zuwa greet him enthusiastically, hopping about and bleating in their pen), Bucky gives them fresh food and water, then drags himself inside. He tosses his duffel near his bed, peels off his shirt then his pants in a daze.

 

The last two weeks - hell, the last two _days_ \- have left him bone tired. His back makes contact with soft sheets, head spinning. 

 

_Then go home. Trust her as much as she trusts you, and give her space. Recharge, figure out what you need to do to fix this. And when she gets back, _talk_ to her._

 

The end of the week can't come soon enough.

 

*

*

*

That brief moment of lightness Bucky felt on his flight back home lingers. For about twenty four hours. No one could ever accuse him of not trying.

 

But he's still avoiding actively dealing with his own thoughts, on some level. It's easier to look for distractions. Those don't come easy out in the middle of nowhere. 

 

Saturday turns into Sunday, and he can’t shrug off the swell of wistfulness that overcomes him. She would likely have visited today, were she home. It had become kind of a ritual of theirs.

* * *

_"I think I miss Sunday dinners the most," Bucky murmured one evening. On another flight back from Oakland, Shuri had slipped up to the cockpit to keep him company. Their late night conversation eventually meandered to his past - before HYDRA, before the war._

_Shuri's eyes had softened then, and he'd looked away to avoid drowning in the tenderness he found there. She didn't respond, just allowed him to dwell on the memories as they came, and he appreciated the comfortable silence more than he could say._

_“We didn’t have much. My folks worked their fingers to the bone. I never went to church once I was old enough to find work, but Ma did her best to make sure we all had at least that one meal together on Sunday evenings..." he trailed off, the sounds of his siblings’ bickering and laughter echoing in his mind, the smell of his mom’s cooking invading his nostrils. When Bucky opened his mouth again to continue, the words nearly caught. “No matter how tight things got, no matter how bad my day was, my week, there was somethin’ about sittin’ around the table together. Like our own little bubble of peace before the real world seeped in again.”_

_A small sniffle broke him out of his train of thought, and he didn't miss the watery smile she gave him before staring thoughtfully ahead out of the window._

_When she showed up at his door two days later (a Sunday evening, to be exact), bearing a large bag full of some of his favorite Wakandan dishes, he nearly buckled under the weight his affection for her. It was one of the kindest things anyone had ever done for him. From then on, Sunday dinners were something they tried to make a habit._

* * *

It's late afternoon. Suddenly, the prospect of eating alone tonight doesn't sound so appealing or peaceful. Bucky considers making his way to one of the nearby villages. He'd formed a friendship with Themba's father, the owner of one of the more popular restaurants in Birnin Zana, after becoming a regular at his establishment. As luck would have it, Zenzele lives not too far from Bucky's own small residence, with his wife and son. They regularly send food with the boy when he comes by to visit the goats or hang out with Bucky.

 

Bucky is dressing, searching for a decent shirt to wear and preparing to call Zenzele, when he hears Ade kicking up a ruckus outside.

 

He pauses for a split second, listening. He relaxes. Only a few things could draw that response from her. When he pokes his head out of his front doorway, the gangly teenager is giggling like a small child as he leans down, feeding the two young goats something from his hands. An amused grin smooths out the furrow in Bucky's brow.

 

"You're off the clock, kid. What are you doin' here?" Themba jerks his head in Bucky's direction, then smiles. The young man lets Zuwa lick the last of whatever treat he was feeding him from his hands, and straightens up. Bucky can't believe he looks even taller than the last time he saw him.

 

"Just came to check on _you_ , Ingcuka."

 

Bucky chuckles at the smirk on the boy's face. "Your Ma send you out here to look after me?" He looks pointedly at the bag laid down by Themba's feet, and he suspects Inyoni may have sent some of her amazing cooking with her son to feed him.

 

Themba laughs. "Maybe. We heard rumors that the Princess is still in America, and she thought you might be lonely out here. She didn't want you to starve." The fourteen-year-old shakes his head then, presumably at his own mother babying this grown white man who is technically old enough to be _her_ father.

 

Bucky narrows his eyes, then sighs, chuckling once again. Gossip spreads fast, even out here. How the news has already traveled that Shuri is still abroad stumps him, but he shouldn't be surprised. It warms him to have someone else that's concerned for his well-being. He's glad to have company.

 

"How about this: I'll eat if you hang out with me and the troublemakers for a little bit."

 

Themba agrees immediately, just like Bucky knew he would. And the boy reminds him so much of his own younger brother, long-gone by now. A wave of nostalgia hits as he watches him nod eagerly.

 

 

"So," Themba says around a mouthful of plantain, "why did you come back without Princess Shuri?"

 

At this point, Bucky doesn't even flinch at the question. He knew it was coming. And the way the teen asks is innocent and earnest, so he doesn't mind answering. "She had some friends she wanted to see and I haven't had time off in a while, so she thought it would be good for me to come back early." He sits back, completely stuffed from Inyoni's generous meal.

 

Themba looks thoughtful for a moment. He hesitates. Then, "You guys are best friends, right?"

 

"You could say that." Bucky smiles fondly. Best friend is such a gross understatement; she's more than that to him. Of course, he doesn't tell any of that to the adolescent boy expectantly gazing back at him.

 

"Well... I was wondering..."

 

"What, _ubhuti wam_ *my brother*? You know you can ask me anything." Bucky gives a light, playful shove in hopes of easing Themba's abrupt anxiety.

 

"How do you stay best friends with someone if you think you _like_ them?" he blurts.

 

Bucky leans so far back in his chair, it nearly topples over. He catches himself, feeling winded from the entirely-too-on-the-nose question. He clears his throat. "How do you mean?"

 

His young friend sighs. "I uh, I may have a... what is it... crush?"

 

Bucky nods.

 

"I think I have a crush on one of my best friends." The words are mumbled, almost as if he's embarrassed, and Bucky feels some sympathy for the kid. He remembers his own first crush, and how utterly devastating it had seemed at the time. And he wants to laugh at the juxtaposition of that against what he's currently feeling.

 

"Nothin' wrong with that, man. Have you told your friend?"

 

When Themba looks up again, Bucky is startled at the distress in his eyes. He vigorously shakes his head at Bucky. "I- I don't know... if I should..."

 

"Themba." He leans forward, resting his forearms on the small table. "Talk to me."

 

A deep sigh. "I don't know if they even like me back." He hangs his head once more. Then, quietly, "I don't know if Mama and Baba would approve... of him."

 

Bucky's eyebrows raise slightly. So that's what the kid is so afraid of. He places a reassuring hand on Themba's shoulder. "Look, I don't want to speak for your parents. But I know they love you. Your dad talks about how proud he is of you every chance he gets, trust me." Bucky dramatically rolls his eyes, huffing in jest. He accomplishes his goal of getting a small smile from the teenager. "But really. I've known them for a few years, and I think it's safe to say that they want you to be happy. They're not gonna care who you like. As long as they're a good person, and they're good for you. I think you should talk to your mom and dad."

 

Themba nervously plays with the empty bowl in front of him, chewing on his bottom lip. "Would you... would you want to talk to them with me?"

 

Bucky can't help his broad smile. "I'd be _honored_."

 

That seems to relax some of the tension in the boy's shoulders.

 

"Now what about your friend...?"

 

"Osaze."

 

"Right. Are you gonna tell Osaze how you feel?"

 

Panic flits across poor Themba's face, but he answers after a moment. "I don't know... I don't want us to stop being friends if he doesn't, you know, like me back. But I feel like I might explode!"

 

Bucky nods his head in understanding. _Boy_ , does he understand. "Believe me, T, I get it. But you don't want to keep something like that bottled up inside." His mind runs over all of the slip-ups he's had in the last week alone, and wants to kick himself. So hard to follow his own advice. "If your feelings are that strong, you need to be honest with him. Now if he doesn't feel the same way, you have to respect that. But think about it: he may feel the same way about you. You'll never know if you don't say something."

 

Themba nods, looking off into the distance for a few minutes, contemplating. Bucky gives him space, standing to clear the dishes from the table. He's standing at the sink washing a bowl when the kid speaks up.

 

"Alright," he says decisively. "I'll tell Osaze how I feel. If you tell Princess Shuri about _your_ feelings."

 

Bucky nearly drops the slippery dish that's in his hands. When he turns to gape at Themba, all he can do is shake his head in disbelief and huff out a short laugh. The teenager is grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

 

*

*

*

 

Bucky sits bolt upright in bed. He's drenched. The sweat that covers his skin isn't borne out of the heat. The moisture is cool, leaving him clammy and shivering. For one awful second, he doesn't remember where he is, _when_ he is. 

 

He gives his heart a moment to stop pounding. Eyes closing, he automatically counts backward from ten in Xhosa. He's home. In Wakanda. 

 

As Bucky flops back onto the thin mattress, he remembers the reason he awoke in such a state.

 

The dream is barely a fog now, a hazy blend of colors and voices and sensations. What strikes him most is the utter terror and emptiness in his gut. 

 

Shuri. 

 

He had a nightmare. She was in distress, calling for him, but he couldn't reach her. He followed her voice through smoke and darkness, but when he reached the source, all he found was a dark hole, leading down into absolute nothing. As he stared into the impossibly steep crater, he could hear his own voice echoing faintly from the inky black. A creeping sensation crawled over his skin. Then the ground began shaking beneath him. Well, not shaking, exactly - buzzing, vibrating. And not just the ground, but the very air around him, his wrist...

 

His Kimoyo bracelet vibrates again. When he sees who's calling and realizes the time, the dread and fear from his nightmare come rushing back, full-force.

 

If he's calling again, it has to be urgent.

 

"Yeah." His throat is full of gravel. He swallows to clear it.

 

"Bucky. You need to get to New York. _Now_." Steve looks just as disheveled as Bucky would expect him to this time of night. But his tone is sharp, edged with something he can't quite name, and his eyes are darting around frantically.

 

Sitting up in bed, he rubs his eyes and squints. "What's goin' on?" he slurs, still trying to wake up.

 

"Central Park. There was some kind of attack at the X-Mansion, and they've gone dark. We can't get a hold of anyone. I'm on my way, but I wanted to call you."

 

Whatever else Steve says is complete gibberish to Bucky. 

 

It fades into the background and he literally cannot comprehend, or even hear, the words that come out of the other man's mouth.

 

He's reminded of the endless abyss from his recent nightmare. His skin breaks out in a fresh cold sweat, and his chest constricts so painfully that, for one awful instant, Bucky thinks he's having some sort of cardiac event.

 

Then he's up. Throwing on clothes and boots. Grabbing his weapons, his keys, his phone. It isn't until he hears his name being called over and over that he even remembers he's still on a vid call.

 

Steve.

 

" _Bucky!_ "

 

He stops. "What." Even to his own ears, his voice sounds detached, hollow.

 

Steve sighs. He frowns for a millisecond, almost appearing as if there's something he isn't saying. "Just get here, okay? Straight to the mansion. Tony and the rest of the team are headed there with me now. And be careful." 

 

No sooner does the call end, than he's out the door. He does a quick check on Zuwa and Ade, making a mental note to message Themba later, before hauling ass to the car.

 

 

Bucky honest-to-god doesn't remember the drive to the palace. He maneuvers from back roads to city streets like a madman, but he doesn't come back to himself until he's practically tripping out of the driver’s side door and running onto the tarmac. The Royal Talon Fighter is already out running. Before Bucky can take another step toward the ramp, he catches movement in his peripheral vision.

 

"James! James!" T'Challa is nearly sprinting toward him, Okoye right by his side.

 

The King appears as if he hasn't slept at all, and Bucky cocks his head.

 

"Nakia went into labor two hours ago," T'Challa says breathlessly.

 

_Oh._

 

"Forgive me, Your Highness - I know well how important your sister is to you - but do you think you should leave your wife right now?"

 

The conflict and anguish is plain on T'Challa's face as he takes in Bucky's words. Okoye's expression seems to suggest that she agrees with Bucky, but she remains silent.

 

T'Challa exhales sharply. "Umama, Nakia's mother, and Ayo are with her. I don't want to leave, but I _cannot_ abandon my little sister." The tone is commanding, but his voice breaks. Bucky can sense the tiniest bit of room for persuasion.

 

Okoye beats him to it. “My King. Let Ingcuka and I go to the Princess, while you care for the Queen. The Avengers should be on-site now.”

 

“Shuri wouldn’t want you to leave Nakia. She needs you _here_.” Bucky stares at T’Challa for a long minute as the King considers his words.

 

“My sister-“

 

“There’s no way in _hell_ I’m coming back without her, Your Highness. I will tear apart the entire East Coast, if I have to. If it’s the _last_ damn thing I do,” Bucky vows.

 

As steel blue meets blazing dark brown, the world seems to stand still. Something like understanding dawns in T’Challa’s eyes. Then his expression shifts again, settling with resolve.

 

He simply nods at Bucky, locking a forearm with his own in a brisk handshake. When the King’s arms cross over his chest, Bucky feels a brief swell of pride, and he returns the salute. “Wakanda Forever.”

 

T’Challa then turns to the General, saluting her as well. He makes her promise to stay in touch every step of the way, before racing off to tend to his wife and arriving child.

 

“Ready, Sergeant?” Okoye asks, turning to face Bucky.

 

“Let’s bring her back.”

 

*

*

*

 

They fly at breakneck speed. It’s just after 8 p.m. EST by the time the Royal Talon approaches the other side of the Atlantic, nearly two hours after he received Steve’s call.

 

Bucky feels every second of it. 

 

He’s been in his fair share of desperate situations over the years. Even before becoming The Winter Soldier, he was known for his cool, calm head in the face of insurmountable odds. The person fidgeting in the cockpit now - knees bouncing erratically, nails chewed down to bleeding stubs - doesn’t much resemble that version of James Barnes.

 

There are almost no reports on what’s happening.

 

The small aircraft is silent, save for the short news footage playing as Bucky searches for _some_ scrap of information. 

 

_”...it’s unclear, at this time, exactly what caused the blast, preliminary reports indicate it may have originated from inside the mansion. We’re unable to get past the blockade, but damage appears to be extensive. No word yet on if there are any survivors...”_

 

Bucky slams his fist on the control panel. He’s tried Steve several times. Sam. Tony. Nat. Bruce. No one is answering. There’s been no response whatsoever from Shuri, or Emiola and Folade, and he can’t even pick up a tracking signal.

 

“Do you really think watching this is helping?”

 

Okoye’s voice is steady. When Bucky darts his gaze over to hers, his heart clenches at the set of her jaw, the worry in her eyes. Shuri isn’t just T’Challa’s baby sister; she’s Okoye’s as well. He stares at this woman who has known the Princess her entire life, watching as she struggles to rein in the emotions he knows are swirling about inside.

 

“Nobody’s answering, and these stupid news outlets know fuck-all. I just want somebody to tell me _something_ ”. He can’t help the edge in his voice. Okoye doesn’t hold it against him.

 

“I know, James.” Her tone is gentle. The General has become like a sister to him, too. While he was ready to fly off in The Angel to find Shuri himself when he first got the call, he’s glad Okoye is here. “We _will_ find her.” She says it just as much for herself as for him. 

 

He stiffly nods his head once. “We have to. I can’t-“ he abruptly squeezes his eyes shut against the rampant ‘what ifs’ that bombard his mind. “Maybe they got out in time,” he mumbles into the hand that drags across his face. “Tony said a couple of the mutants that live there are telepaths. There’s no way they didn’t sense this. Right? I mean how does something like this even happen? Who the fuck bombs a _school_?” He looks down at his hands, and they both tremble. “I don’t want that to be the last time I held her,” he whispers, nearly strangled with panic. He thinks of their tense hug before he dropped Shuri at the X-Mansion, and all his traitor brain can repeat is, _You left her. You didn’t even try._

 

“It won’t.” Okoye’s eyes are shining with tears when he meets them. She walks over to where he’s standing and her firm hand grasps his Vibranium one. She squeezes. Despite the strength of her grip, he doesn’t miss her lip trembling. 

 

Bucky doesn’t know how long they stand like that. All he does know is that it calms him, seems to calm Okoye too, as they stare out of the cockpit, willing the New York skyline to come into view.

 

*

*

*

 

Even with the ship’s cloaking activated, they decide to land a safe distance from the mansion. 

 

Bucky and Okoye slip through the trees, carefully avoiding emergency personnel and debris as they approach the structure from the rear. He mindlessly surges forward, one step, then the next. The acrid air nearly chokes them both. His stupid feet aren’t moving fast enough, and his chest aches from the force of his heart slamming against it.

 

It nearly caves in when they clear the tree line.

 

Extensive doesn't even begin to describe the damage. The institute is utterly decimated, razed to the ground by whatever detonated inside. No one could have survived this. He doesn't even realize he's bolted until a strong arm catches him, mere steps away from the rubble.

 

His head automatically jerks back to find Okoye's stern expression fixed on him. "It may not be safe, James."

 

"She could be in there, we _have_ to," he growls. He feels like he's going to crawl out of his skin as she pulls him back.

 

When his Kimoyo bracelet buzzes against the skin of his wrist, Bucky answers the call without thinking. Steve's face is smudged with black, his hair is in disarray, eyes bloodshot.

 

"Give me _something_ , Steve."

 

"She's safe."

 

Bucky sucks in a real breath for the first time in two and a half hours. He hears a little gasp of relief next to him.

 

"We've moved everyone to the compound."

 

"We're on our way," Okoye asserts, before Bucky can answer.

 

*

*

*

 

They burst through the doors of the compound and rush past Tony. The other man doesn't even react. He just stands aside and shouts after them. "She's in the lab!"

 

Bucky breaks into a run, ignoring the elevators to take the stairs two at a time, Okoye on his heels. 

 

The hallway is crowded with chairs and makeshift beds occupied by wounded students and teachers from the Xavier Institute. Some appear to be completely untouched. An unfortunate few are in much worse shape, and Bucky's gut twists at the thought that Shuri may be one of the injured. He weaves his way past the glass walls of the laboratory, and his eyes are already searching for the Princess as he walks through the open doorway, struggling to filter out the flurry of activity around him. 

 

The hairs on the back of his neck raise and he stops in the middle of the crowded space. He turns his head this way and that. 

 

He whips around, and the sight of her small, weary frame pushing toward him is enough to steal the last of his strength.

 

Bucky falls to his knees as she stops directly in front of him. Vaguely, he registers Okoye's hand gripping his right shoulder, both to steady herself and to comfort him. Everything else simply blends together into white noise. 

 

Shuri's eyes follow his as he drops before her. She brings trembling hands up to hover on either side of his head, shimmering brown eyes searching, almost disbelieving. The sensation of her fingers grazing his bearded cheeks as she cups his face brings heat back to his cold skin. When she gently presses upward, he rises to shaky feet. Everything Bucky has been feeling since the very first moment he ever saw her is fighting to tumble past his lips. All that comes out is a strangled gasp. _"Angel."_

 

She throws her arms around his neck, and he stumbles back with the force of it. One palm cradles the back of her head as he inhales her scent, the other arm wrapping around her back, careful to avoid the bandage covering her left shoulder.

 

She's here. Alive. Safe. 

 

Each little hitch in her breath is magnified as it brushes across his ear, then his face when they press their foreheads together, just breathing each other in. He opens his eyes just in time to see the fire in hers before she presses her full lips against his own. Her mouth is soft and sweet, tinged with salt. It's everything. It's the first moment of true peace he's had since leaving New York three mornings ago. Still, blood rushes in his ears from the sensation of her small hands threading through his hair. 

 

When they pull apart, Bucky licks his lips. His lids flutter open. Vibranium and flesh wipe away the moisture from her cheeks, and she performs the same tender act for him.

 

"Ahem."

 

They flinch, and Shuri stifles a breathless sort of giggle when she looks to Okoye, who has been patiently waiting to greet the Princess. She drags her hands down Bucky's chest and steps toward the General, his eyes never leaving her. The two women embrace tightly for several long moments, and then they part. Okoye's slender hands now cup Shuri's face.

 

"How did you get out? We saw the mansion." Okoye shakes her head at the memory of the massive building reduced to smoking rubble.

 

"All the blasts didn't go off simultaneously," Shuri responds, voice trembling. "Whoever snuck in and planted the bombs had an extensive amount of psychic shielding, because Jean, Rachel, and Betsy never detected a thing. It was actually Wolverine who caught a stray scent on the perimeter of the mansion - he traced it back to the Headmistress's office. He found the device planted there and it was faulty, we think. It detonated first. He was caught in the blast." Her eyes cloud over, then she's clears her throat. "His healing factor is what saved him. That premature detonation gave us time to start evacuating before the other bombs were triggered. Kurt actually 'ported me out. I um, I may have a concussion," she relays sheepishly, and Bucky's eyes go wide.

 

"I'm fine!" she insists, before either he or Okoye can fuss over her. "I was trying to grab an injured student, and one of the blasts knocked us into a wall. He got to us before we caught the worst of it." Bucky is overwhelmed with gratitude for the man. He silently contemplates everything that Shuri has told them as he stands by and listens to her voice.

 

Okoye asks after Folade and Emiola, and Shuri points her in the direction of the rec room, which has been set up as another triage area. "I'll be there in a minute," Shuri promises. She grips the General's hand briefly, sharing a meaningful look before Okoye leaves in search of her sisters.

 

Bucky is still processing everything that's transpired. It's no surprise that Shuri easily drags him out of the bustling lab and down the hall. It isn't until she pulls him into one of the small rooms near the stairwell that his brain catches up. His heart finally stops pounding, twitching fingers relax at his sides. After closing the door, she turns back to him, lips parted as if to speak.

 

"I love you," he blurts out.

 

Her eyebrows raise, and her mouth snaps shut in shock. It's unbearably adorable. He still can't quite believe she's standing here in front of him.

 

"I know this probably isn't the right time." He chuckles once, dipping his head as he confesses. "We thought-" the terror that had ripped through his chest when he got Steve's first call washes over him again. He struggles to clear his throat, shaking his head slightly as he stares at the floor. "I wasn't here, because you needed space from me."

 

"Bucky, don't-"

 

"It's okay." He lifts his attention back to her lovely face. "If I had been honest a long time ago, maybe you wouldn't have needed that. Or maybe you would've. I know it's not just because of me. You're here for Kurt." The name doesn't burn quite as much as he grits it out, but it still smarts. "Either way, you deserve to know the truth. That kiss back in Oakland _wasn't_ a mistake. But I've had my head so far up my own ass, for so many reasons..."

 

Tears begin to spill over and down her cheeks. Dammit. He hadn't meant to upset her again. "None of that matters right now. You're alive. That's more than I could ever hope for. And I couldn't waste any more time, not when I almost thought you were gone..." He exhales shakily. "You don't need to love me back, Shuri. If you want to be with him, I won't- I won't stand in the way of that. I'm yours in whatever capacity you'll allow. If that means just best friend, or just bodyguard, I accept it."

 

Shuri's expression shifts from quiet surprise to complete bewilderment. He pauses.

 

"What...?"

 

The sound of her abrupt, hysterical giggling has _him_ confused now, and a flush warms his cheeks. 

 

After a few seconds, she realizes he isn't in on the joke. Her eyes soften. "I'm so sorry, Buck. I... You thought I want... to be... with _Kurt_?" Pealing laughter bursts forth again, and her lips press together. She squeezes her eyes shut, a faint smile still gracing her lips while she shakes her head. "You silly, _ridiculous_ man." Her fingers grip the front of his shirt, gaze glued to his as she pulls him into her. Bucky's eyes frantically search hers as he struggles to piece it together. "Kurt is quite the catch. But he is my _friend_. More like a brother to me." She sighs, expression sobering. "I'm sorry I never told you about him. It's dangerous enough for the X-Men, and you were still in cryo when they first came to Wakanda. The fewer people knew about them being in the country, the better. And then they were on the run for a while."

 

He's stunned into silence. If what she's telling him is true...

 

"So, he isn't trying to...?"

 

"He's _married_ , you goat." Shuri rolls her eyes and huffs in exasperation, but the bite is taken out of it by her faint grin. "And I love _you_."

 

Just like that, his heart leaps into his throat. He must be gaping at her like an idiot, because she tugs on his collar, harder now. " _I love you_ , James Barnes. I want _you_."

 

This kiss is nothing like their first two. Bucky weaves his fingers into the braids at the nape of her neck as his mouth captures hers. He presses her back, free hand next to her head against the door. Their lips are greedy. When Shuri gently tugs his bottom lip with her teeth, he grunts, bucking his hips into her. Pinned to the door, she flourishes under his touch. Her mouth falls open and he dips his tongue inside, using the same deliberate pace as the fingers that currently knead her left hip. She's rolling her hips against his when his lips wander to the corner of her mouth, the side of her neck. His body hums at the salt of her skin on his tongue. It tastes so good it almost hurts, and he grazes his teeth against her soft flesh, desperate for more. 

 

The door rattles from the force of the knock. This time, the interruption doesn't cause him to jerk away from her.

 

"Hey, Lovebirds!" Steve yells from the other side. "Got somebody on the phone that wants to talk to you. Shuri, I think your brother and sister-in-law have someone they want you to see." The smile is apparent in Steve's voice, even through the closed door.

 

Bucky opens his eyes to stare in awe at the woman before him. She seems to be searching for something, and her expression is hesitant now. "You don't have to talk to them. If you're not ready to really do this, tell me."

 

"Never again," he breathes against her lips.

 

Shuri frowns. "What?"

 

"I promise, I'm never leaving you again." She lets out a shuddering breath, and kisses him again, more fiercely this time. 

 

When she pulls back, she's beaming. "Lets open the door before Captain America breaks it down, eh?" 

 

Relief courses through him and he chuckles softly. "Yeah. I think that's a good idea." Bucky nearly groans when he peels himself away from her. Just before she reaches for the doorknob, Shuri's fingers lace between his, and it grounds him. 

 

He's never been more ready for anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? I was a little nervous writing this chapter lol. Anyway, we _may_ get some more *ahem* _adult_ activities in the next chapter ;) Much much love to you all for reading, thank you!!


	6. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ingcuka,” she whispers. He closes his eyes against the flood of emotion that brings. He knows he’s going to cave the second she continues. “You promised you weren’t going to leave me. Please. I’m asking you to stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I apologize for taking so long with this update. There's a little bit of everything in this chapter; humor, fluff, angst, and of course... the goods *wink wink*. Fair warning, it comes toward the end, and it's just a taste of what's to come, so I hope y'all aren't disappointed. If you're still with me, thank you so very much, it means the world to me. If you're new - welcome welcome!! 
> 
>  
> 
> *Side note: Last chapter has Bucky and Okoye arriving to New York shortly after 4 a.m., but I made an oopsie, because that's Wakandan time, which is roughly 8 hours ahead of New York. Long story short, it is around 8 p.m. in New York when they land.
> 
> Anywho, thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave kudos and comments, they always make my day! <3

If it was anyone else, under any other circumstances, Bucky would throttle the person on the other side of the door. His lips still tingle and his heart still slams against his ribcage, and all he wants is more time to wrap himself up in the woman beside him. 

 

But her soft hand squeezes his, radiating warmth all the way up into his chest, and he grins like a loon.

 

Steve’s ridiculously, annoyingly smug smile greets them when they swing the door open, his fist raised mid-knock.

 

“Hold your fuckin’ horses, Stevie, we’re here,” Bucky sighs, but he can’t manage to hold onto the irritation. He’s just so damned happy. 

 

When Shuri nudges him in the side with a sharp elbow and utters, “Behave,” in that tone he’s grown to love, he licks his lips and thinks to say something only mildly insubordinate and _definitely_ suggestive.

 

Steve stops him. “Forgive me, Your Highness, the King is calling for you.”

 

Shuri rolls her eyes and scoffs good-naturedly. “Oh _please_ , Steve, miss me with the formalities. You look all too happy to be interrupting.” She arches a brow, prompting a blush to creep up Steve’s neck.

 

He covers his answering laugh with a cough. “I promise, I didn’t plan this. T’Challa insisted I find you. He’s on in the conference room, but we recovered your Kimoyo beads, if you want him to call you that way instead.”

 

“No, no it’s fine. We’ll be up.” She looks up at Bucky expectantly. “Do you still want to...?” Her expression sobers. The realization that he’s about to speak to the big brother of the woman he loves - the King, no less - should send him into a full-scale anxiety attack. It doesn’t. Any trepidation he would’ve felt about it pales in comparison to the yawning chasm of panic that nearly engulfed him on the flight here, when he feared she was lost.

 

“Of course, Angel.” 

 

Her whole face brightens then, soft lips curving up, almond eyes sparkling, and Bucky’s throat tightens. How is she even real?

 

She tugs his hand and moves to get around Steve. “Thank you, _Captain_ ,” she says to the other man, patting his chest with her free hand as they pass.

 

Steve dips his head and chuckles, eyes following the two as they make their way down the hall. _Good luck_ , he mouths. Bucky laughs, and flips his friend off before turning back to let Shuri pull him up the stairs.

 

 

When they make it to the conference room, Okoye is smiling at the large screen, Folade and Emiola leaning over each shoulder with equally bright expressions on their faces. 

 

"Alright, brother, you'd better be calling with news about my nephew because-"

 

Shuri is rendered speechless and motionless as she pauses just inside the door, Bucky stopping abruptly right behind her. The three Dora have turned and stepped away to allow an unobstructed view of the screen, and it is truly a sight.

 

Swaddled in a beautifully patterned blanket and cradled in T'Challa's arms is the new heir to the Wakandan throne. His round little face scrunches, then relaxes, eyes shut tight as he squirms and adjusts to his new environment. A healthy tuft of curly black hair tops his tiny head. Bucky marvels at how small the baby boy is in his father's arms. 

 

Shuri gasps, then squeals. She skips to the screen, reverently runs her fingers over the live image of her infant nephew's lovely little face. "T'Challa." Her voice is a choked whisper, and Bucky knows she's crying. "He's _perfect_. Hello, baby boy. We've been waiting for you," she coos. 

 

Bucky simply stands back, watching the intimate moment in awed silence. Such a terrible day has turned into such a joyous one, and he nearly has whiplash from the shift. Without warning, sadness washes over him as he thinks about his own brother and sister. Had they had children? How many? Were they still alive? Did any of them know about him? He clears his throat then, figuring it doesn't do to dwell on the past. But perhaps he will look into his family's records, see if he can find anything out about what happened to them after he was gone.

 

T'Challa's voice pulls him back to the present. "Nakia _may_ have liked your suggestion better than mine," he says ruefully. 

 

"See?" Shuri answers. "I knew she was meant to be a part of this family." Her brother laughs, shaking his head at the antics of his younger sibling. 

 

"Yes yes, rub it in. As it so happens, I liked it too."

 

"So his name is...?"

 

"Meet your new baby nephew: Khwezi." As if he already knows his own name, his wide, wondering brown eyes open and stare straight at the screen.

 

It's Bucky's turn to gasp. He gazes at those eyes, all at once brand new and ancient, and a pang of emotion hits him squarely in the gut. Visions of a tiny brown bundle all their own, squirming in his arms as Shuri curls up at his side invade his mind. The need is sudden, but strong, and he struggles to breathe against the intensity of it.

 

Shuri bounces excitedly and claps her hands at her brother's announcement. "Where is my beautiful sister-in-law, by the way?" 

 

Carefully, T'Challa shifts out of the center of the picture to reveal a peacefully sleeping Nakia in bed behind him. "She would rip me to shreds if she knew I was letting you all see her like this. She is exhausted. But she did so well. I've never seen anything more beautiful." The King glances lovingly at his Queen, then his child, and joy radiates through the screen like the sun. 

 

Bucky's chest tightens even further. Fatherhood looks good on his friend. It's a gift Bucky himself never imagined he would experience. As he stands in this room with his new makeshift family, with his love, he's hesitant to hope that maybe he could. His treacherous heart latches onto that inkling of a thought and sets to racing again. He shakes his head. He can't get ahead of himself. It wouldn't do to entertain fantasies that may likely never happen. Before he can sink further down into his own thoughts, his attention is pulled elsewhere.

 

Shuri has asked him a question. Bucky's face warms and he clears his throat. "I'm sorry, doll, I didn't catch that." His smile is sheepish, and Shuri tilts her head in response, an amused smirk on her own lips.

 

"I said: what do you think of this little man? Come see." She holds out her hand, and Bucky steps forward to take it. He hesitates when he remembers who can see them, but Shuri doesn't waver as she looks to him. Her face is soft, and radiant, and open - he finds no uncertainty there, and that bolsters him. Cool Vibranium laces in-between warm flesh. He lets out the tiniest of sighs, and it's like touching her again is exactly what his body and mind were waiting for. Everything swirling around inside him settles. She gently tugs him closer when their hands clasp together, so that they're both close to the screen. T'Challa's eyes flicker to their joined hands for half a second, but he says nothing. He switches his attention first to Bucky (who thinks he might have detected the barest twitch of the King's mouth), and then to Shuri once again.

 

"He's beautiful. Congratulations, man," Bucky says quietly.

 

T'Challa smiles broadly then, tired eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thank you, my friend. He takes after his mother." He pauses, face growing thoughtful as he gazes at the bundled infant. When he glances back up to the screen, his eyes are somber. "And thank you, _both_ of you," T'Challa's eyes flicker over to Okoye before landing back on Bucky. "For convincing me to stay. For going to find our Bibi." 

 

Bucky shakes his head. "Nah, I didn't do a thing. You have Nightcrawler to thank for saving Shuri from the blast. And the Avengers for bringing her back here." He squeezes Shuri's hand again, voice catching as he struggles not to relive the events that brought him here. She returns the gesture and watches the side of his face.

 

"Regardless, James, you and Okoye flew halfway across the world in the middle of the night with little thought for yourselves. I know it is more than duty that motivated you, and that I can appreciate, as well. Captain Rogers was considerate enough to call me shortly before he contacted you, and I will thank him and Kurt properly, later. For now, know that I am grateful."

 

Bucky bows his head briefly.

 

"Now, sister," T'Challa says, rocking a squirming Khwezi in his arms, "when are you coming back home?"

 

"We should be back sometime after nightfall over there," Shuri answers automatically. 

 

Bucky whips his head to her. It's near 9 at night in New York now, making it close to 5 a.m. in Wakanda; she can't possibly intend to travel so soon after being injured. He speaks before anyone else can. "Shuri, you have a _concussion_ -"

 

"A _very mild_ concussion, if that. I didn't even lose consciousness. Bruce checked me out himself, and he said I should be alright to fly. He even gave me something to help abate any symptoms." 

 

Bucky shakes his head. He knows it's probably useless to argue with her, but he's damn well gonna try. She's always pushing herself too hard. They almost lost her once today; he doesn't want to tempt fate. "Uh huh," he replies skeptically. "What about that." He gestures at her left shoulder. More specifically, the bandage covering it. Shuri waves her free hand dismissively.

 

"Small bit of shrapnel. And before you say anything, Barnes, it was already removed." Her eyes are steel now, and her tone brooks no room for further debate. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. When he looks first to the Dora for help, then to T'Challa, he sighs. They all know it's no use.

 

Then, softer, she says, "I just want to be _home_ , Buck." 

 

"Okay," he says simply. She has to be exhausted. It's written all over her, but Bucky is convinced the Princess wouldn't know how to slow down if she tried. He trusts she would tell them all if something were truly wrong. Well, he hopes.

 

T'Challa watches the exchange with thinly veiled amusement. He shakes his head at Bucky, a resigned, yet indulgent expression on his face.

 

After a few more minutes, Khwezi really starts to fuss. Just before ending the call, T'Challa turns once again to Shuri. "We love you Bibi. All of you, get home safely. And Shuri."

 

"Yes, brother?"

 

"Give my love to Ororo."

 

Shuri grins. "I will. See you soon."

 

*

*

*

Despite protests from everyone, Shuri heads back down to the lab, determined to help with the injured for a little while longer before they pack up to fly home. Bucky dutifully stays nearby, practically hovering, until Sam recruits him into being useful. 

 

By the time midnight rolls around, he's dog-tired from moving equipment and furniture, setting up cots and spare rooms for the extended guests that will be staying at the compound while Xavier's is waiting to be rebuilt. 

 

When he trudges back into the laboratory, things have settled considerably. The more seriously wounded are being housed here where Bruce, Tony, and Hank McCoy - one of the original X-Men and a gifted physician - can keep a close watch. A few of the students have severe concussions. Some are badly burned One boy has a badly broken arm and collar bone, another several fractured ribs. The most serious injury is a young girl, not more than fourteen, with shrapnel wounds in her side and a nasty injury to her left leg. If Bucky has overheard correctly, she may lose it, and his stomach rolls. Who would do this to a _child_? 

 

"How much do we know about them?" Bruce's tone is hushed as he leans against a desk in the back. He's huddled together with Steve, Dr. McCoy, and two women Bucky doesn't recognize - a petite brunette with sharp features and curly hair, and a slightly taller redhead with piercing green eyes. 

 

"These cowards have been targeting us for years," the brunette replies.

 

"Friends of Humanity," Steve scoffs. "The name is a bit ironic, isn't it?"

 

"The problem, Steven, is that they don't see _us_ as a part of humanity. And up until recently, we haven't been able to concretely link them to any of the anti-mutant attacks on the East Coast. But the shrapnel recovered from Princess Shuri's shoulder has a distinct signature that we may be able to trace," Hank chimes in. His thick, bright blue fur is singed in a few places, matted with blood and dirt in others, but he otherwise appears unharmed.

 

Shuri is off to the side, quietly tending to someone else Bucky doesn't recognize, but who's identity he can probably guess. The hairy, muscular man is shirtless, and though he can't be taller than 5'5", his frame is massive as he sits back on the stretcher. His thick, dark hair is in disarray, but it somehow suits the rugged handsomeness of his face. Shuri is cleaning a particularly vicious burn on his bare chest when he flinches.

 

"Oh come now, Logan. Surely you've had worse." Shuri scolds the man like a school teacher, but when her eyes flicker up to his face, she winks. The Wolverine's strained expression melts into the faintest of smiles.

 

"Just tickles, darlin'," he responds in a deep, gravelly voice. There's affection in it, and Shuri smirks.

 

"Stay _still_ ," she commands gently, lifting a brow. He huffs, but Bucky thinks he sees the man's obsidian eyes flash at the command.

 

Bucky's entire body tenses as he observes the interaction, noting the fondness on the gruff man's face, and the way he quietly sighs when Shuri's fingers touch his skin again. And he can't stop the hot stab of jealousy as it hits. _Mine_ , his animal brain shouts. He knows, logically, that Shuri doesn't belong to anyone, least of all him. They haven't even talked about what they are, officially. All the same, his pulse jumps and his breathing increases as he silently moves toward them.

 

Logan's eyes flicker up before anyone else notices him. The man grunts, causing Shuri to glance up, then turn in the direction of his sharp stare. Her face brightens immediately when she lands on him. Bucky straightens, and the furrow in his brow smooths out.

 

"Hey, sugar."

 

A pretty blush colors her umber cheeks. She turns and sets the swabs and ointment in her hands down on the counter behind her. "I was wondering where you'd got off to. I'm almost done here." Then she looks to the man beside her, who is watching them intently. "Logan Howlett, meet James Barnes."

 

"Lover boy," Logan grunts, nodding his head as he sits up.

 

Bucky's jaw ticks. "Wolverine." He stares at the man before him, gauging this stranger. Logan's reputation certainly precedes him, and it rankles Bucky to witness Shuri so close to such a dangerous person. But it appears the Princess's charm has ensnared yet another unwitting soul, and Bucky can't truly hold it against him. 

 

Shuri's eyes dart between the two. She rolls her eyes and releases a longsuffering, yet mildly amused, sigh. "Alright, boys. Have we sized each other up now?"

 

Logan has the grace to look apologetic, and Bucky briefly drops his own head. He clears his throat before reaching a hand out. After a moment, Logan grasps it. 

 

"Nice piece o' hardware," he comments as he releases the grip on the Vibranium appendage.

 

Bucky genuinely smiles then, pride creeping into his voice. "I have Shuri to thank for that. This is her masterpiece." 

 

"Flattery, Ingcuka," Shuri says. The look she throws Bucky's way could melt his insides, and he's now sorely wishing they were already back home.

 

Turning back to her patient, she secures the bandage she's placed on his chest, then squeezes his arm lightly. "All done, Logan. You're lucky you have your healing factor. You wouldn't have survived that, otherwise. Thank you." Her voice drops, and Bucky resists the urge to step forward and smooth the little line that's formed on her forehead.

 

Wolverine places a large palm over her small hand and gives her a lopsided grin. "You were right, I've had worse. This was worth it. You sure _you're_ okay?" 

 

Shuri nods. "Don't worry about me. We're leaving soon, but I'll be checking up on you, so take it easy. You're not as young as you used to be."

 

A surprised chuckle leaves the feral man's throat, and Logan stands stiffly from the cot. "Take care o' yourself, kid. You gonna go say bye to 'Ro?" 

 

"Of course. I have to wrap up with these guys first," she responds, gesturing to where Bruce and the rest are gathered around one of the computers.

 

Logan nods, squeezing her shoulder before walking toward the exit. He addresses Bucky as he passes. "Take care of her, bub."

 

Bucky doesn't miss the look the man gives him, and he nods once in response.

 

 

The debriefing is short. Bucky learns that the brunette and the redhead are co-team leader Kitty Pride and founding X-Men member Jean Grey, respectively. From what he understands, the Friends of Humanity is an anti-mutant rights group that has been trying for years to have the Mutant Registration Act reinstated. The organization has caused its fair share of trouble for the X-Men and mutants in general, but this is the first time its members might actually be linked to terrorist activities. Shuri offers to contact Agent Ross for any intel he might have. 

 

By the time Bucky follows Shuri out of the lab, the Avengers and the X-Men have promised to keep her up-to-date on what's happening, and she offers any assistance they need to recuperate and rebuild.

 

"You sure you don't want to sleep and leave in a few hours?" Bucky asks. 

 

“I'm _sure_. I've had enough of New York for a while, and I just want to sleep in my own bed. But there's someone I want to see first.”

 

He raises a questioning brow at the small smile on her face, but she says nothing. Just grabs his hand once again as the elevator doors open, and he lets Shuri lead him down the hallway.

 

“Where we goin', doll?” He whispers. 

 

They come to one of the bedrooms in the back, and she knocks. “Bast, you’re impatient,” she teases.

 

His own response is cut short as the door swings open, revealing a weary-looking Kurt. “Liebling,” he says, features softening as soon as he lays his glowing eyes on Shuri. Bucky shifts on his feet, and Kurt turns his attention to him. “Herr Barnes. Good to see you again.”

 

Bucky reaches out and shakes the other man’s hand. “Bucky, please.” He pauses. “I want to apologize, for being so rude to you back in California. Thank you for saving her. For doing the job I should’ve done.” 

 

Shuri squeezes his hand reassuringly. Kurt gives a wide smile. “Thank you for saying that. But no need to apologize, or to thank me. I think vee can both agree, Shuri is quite precious to a great many of us. I vould do it again in a heartbeat. And I understand your behavior at the gala. She told me this afternoon vat you thought, and I can’t blame you.” He chuckles.

 

Bucky hangs his head for a moment. This man is far too generous, and he appreciates it more than he can say. “Thank you.”

 

“Of course,” Kurt answers. Then he turns back to Shuri. “I assume you’re on your vay out?” 

 

She smiles tentatively. “Are they still awake?”

 

“They are. They’ve both been vaiting for you.” He opens the door all the way, ushering them into the spacious bedroom. 

 

Bucky trails behind the two, and he stops short when he takes in the sight before him. Sitting on a small loveseat wrapped in a thick blanket is one of the most striking women he’s ever seen. The first thing he notices are her bright blue, cat-like eyes. Her mahogany skin contrasts beautifully with the thick, curly, white hair that spills over her shoulders and down to her waist. A small section of said hair is currently in the chubby grasp of an adorable infant sat on the woman’s lap. There’s no mistaking the baby’s pointed ears, dark brown complexion, luminescent golden eyes, and white curls. 

 

“Ororo,” Shuri says as she lets go of Bucky’s hand and plops down on the couch next to mother and child. “We wanted to say goodbye. T’Challa sends his love.” She leans over to place a kiss to each of their cheeks.

 

The smile that graces the woman’s face is dazzling, and Bucky can see why she has the reputation of goddess. “Give him our love, as well. I’ll have to check up on Nakia and that new nephew of yours in a few days.”

 

Shuri’s face lights up. “She would love that.”

 

When Ororo’s gaze shifts to Bucky, he feels as if he’s being assessed. She clearly adores Shuri, and he can sense the protectiveness in that stare.

 

Shuri clears her throat. “Forgive me for being so rude. Ororo, _this_ is James. Bucky, meet Ororo Munroe-Wagner. And this little nugget,” she says as she pinches the baby girl’s plump leg, “is Kurt and Ororo’s daughter, N’Dare Anja.”

 

“Ma’am, it’s an honor.” Bucky finds himself bowing his head slightly. When he lifts his eyes again, both women wear amused smirks. 

 

“Ororo, please. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She arches a snowy eyebrow, and Bucky's face heats.

 

“Oh god,” he mumbles under his breath, then clears his throat.

 

Shuri and Ororo both burst into giggles, and he can’t help but grin, then. Even Kurt chuckles from his seat on the end of the king bed.

 

“Nothing bad, White Wolf, trust me. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Her sparkling eyes slide over to Shuri, giving her a knowing glance.

 

Shuri plays with little N’Dare and again, Bucky is overwhelmed by the longing that hits him as he watches her. Kurt and Ororo’s daughter is absolutely fascinated with the Princess, and they all marvel at the bond the two have formed in such a short time.

 

Bucky eventually makes his way to the couch. He sits on the arm and tickles the little girl’s feet, managing to get a contagious giggle from her, and he practically melts. 

 

Their visit is short. Not even fifteen minutes later, they all stand, exchanging hugs and promises to stay in touch. Shuri hands N’Dare to Kurt, then turns to give Ororo one more tight hug.

 

“Please let me know when you get home.”

 

“We will,” Shuri promises. 

 

Ororo reaches out to Bucky and grasps his hand gently. “Take care of each other,” she says lovingly. “And if you two ever need anything, we're right here.” Kurt nods in agreement and kisses his wife’s cheek before showing them out.

 

*

*

*

 

It’s after 11 p.m. in Wakanda when the Royal Talon lands. 

 

Shuri’s eyes are starting to droop as they make their way through the palace. She didn’t sleep a wink on the flight home, instead opting to call her mother, then T’Challa. Agent Ross had called to check up on her as well, and to update her on the investigation into the bombing.

 

Bucky feels the exhaustion pouring off of her and it’s all he can do not to scoop her up and carry her to her doorway. Emiola and Folade separated from them back at the tarmac to go rest at Shuri's behest. When they reach the section of corridor leading to Shuri’s quarters, she dismisses the General, as well.

 

“I’ll be fine. Bucky can escort me to my room. I know you want to check in with my brother.” She gives a tired smile, and Okoye eyes the two of them.

 

“Princess-“

 

“I’m okay, I _promise_. I just need to rest.”

 

Okoye shifts her worried gaze to Bucky, who nods at once. “I’ll make sure she gets to her room safely, Koye. Go on ahead, we’ll be alright.”

 

After a moment, she squeezes Shuri’s hand, then pats Bucky on the back before heading off to see T'Challa, her expression unreadable.

 

Once they’re alone, Shuri snakes a hand into the crook of Bucky’s elbow. They walk like that in companionable silence, her warm fingers gripping the inside of his arm, until they reach her door. She goes to open it, and when she doesn’t let go, Bucky frowns.

 

“This is your stop, Angel.”

 

Shuri shakes her head, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “Stay.”

 

Bucky’s heart sets to thudding wildly, and now he’s wide awake. “Shuri I-“ he sighs. “That’s probably not a good idea.” 

 

Her entire being deflates, and she looks so sad that it nearly breaks him. She releases the hold on his arm to step into his personal space. Her wide eyes meet his, pleading with him to change his mind. “You really think I care what anyone thinks right now?”

 

Her hands come up to rest against his chest, causing his breath to catch in his throat. Bucky grasps the hand that’s settled over his heart. He inhales slowly, tries to gather himself. “I think it would be frowned upon for me to stay in the Princess’s chambers overnight.”

 

Bucky regrets the words the instant they’re out of his mouth. Shuri’s eyes narrow then, and her hold tightens on the fabric of his shirt. 

 

“Ingcuka,” she whispers. He closes his eyes against the flood of emotion that brings. He knows he’s going to cave the second she continues. “I won’t be able to sleep alone, and you promised you weren’t going to leave me. Please. I’m asking you to stay.”

 

"What about the morning, Shuri?"

 

Her shoulders heave with a heavy sigh, and she studies the floor for several seconds before looking up once more. "For one awful moment, before Kurt was able to teleport us out, I thought... I was never going to see any of this again. I feared I would never see Mama, or my brother, or Nakia, or the baby, or Okoye. I thought I would never see you again. I wouldn't get to tell you how I feel. There may be customs for what's 'polite' or 'proper', but I don't give a damn right now. Anyone that has a problem with it knows exactly where to find me. I've wasted a lot of time pushing aside what I want, and I'm not doing that anymore." Her fingers are trembling as they continue to grip the front of his shirt. Her shimmering eyes bore into him, stealing the air from his lungs.

 

"Alright. I'll stay." Her relief is palpable. Bucky almost wants to chuckle at the slow curving of her lips, and he shakes his head. "I never stood a chance, did I?"

 

Shuri giggles, and the lightness of it wraps around him. "You really didn't."

 

She taps one of the beads on her bracelet and her bedroom door slides open, beckoning them inside. It's barely locked before she's making her way to her bed, stripping off the hoodie he had given her. She plops down onto the edge of the mattress and toes off her sneakers. Bucky's attention never leaves her. Her head is down now, eyes unseeing as she looks to the floor. She doesn't glance up at first when he approaches.

 

"Hey." 

 

When she does look up, unshed tears clouding her eyes, Bucky immediately sits beside her. He grasps her chin with his fingers before she can avert her gaze again. 

 

"You don't have to hide from me," he whispers gently. "You don't have to talk, either. But I'm here. I'm not goin' anywhere."

 

Her lower lip trembles, and then her lips part on a choked sob. Releasing her chin, Bucky slides his hand to the back of her head, pulling her into his lap as though he’s done it a million times. Shuri curls her small, warm body against his, tears staining her soft cheeks. The sobs that wrack her are quiet. They shatter Bucky's heart all the same, and the storm of love, sadness, rage, and fear that swells inside threatens to strangle him. He settles it by focusing on the woman in his arms, running a hand up and down her back slowly, again and again and again, lips pressed to her hair, until her shoulders stop shaking and her sobs have died down to little hiccups.

 

Careful not to pull on her injured shoulder, he scoots back on the bed, bringing Shuri with him. As he rests his back on the fluffy, fragrant pillows against her headboard, she lifts her head. He's startled to find not fear or fatigue, but determination.

 

"I'm going to get those monsters. I swear it." Her voice is hoarse, but the steel of her tone makes him sit up a little straighter. She shakes her head, remembering the last several hours. "They hurt innocent people. _Kids_. Ororo and Kurt's baby could have... I can't let that stand."

 

Bucky lowers his head to be level with hers. "You're not gonna do this all alone, sugar. We’ll get the bastards who did this."

 

She presses her lips together, nodding slowly as she focuses on his words.

 

"Praise Bast everyone survived, but Bucky... so many people got hurt. They couldn't even be safe in their own home. Someone wanted them _dead_. And I thought- I thought maybe that was it for me, too."

 

Bucky's blood runs cold at that, and he takes her face in his hands. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there. So so so sorry." 

 

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you hear me?" Slender fingers come up to slide against his own cheeks, and she rests her forehead against his, holding his gaze. "I'm here. _We're_ here." Her sigh then is heavy. She closes her eyes, breathes in deeply through her nose, and blows out another steady, cleansing breath. Her eyes are clear when they open. "Right now I want to forget everything else but that fact."

 

They sit that way for countless minutes, foreheads touching, basking in the silence and warmth of each other's presence.

 

After a while, Shuri speaks. "I missed you. I know it's silly, it was such a short time. But it felt strange to look over and not see you beside me."

 

"I missed you too," Bucky confesses. "I'm sorry for this whole last week, for the gala, everything."

 

"Bucky-"

 

"I owe you that. I was scared. Not of you. I was scared of rejection. Of what your brother would do if he found out how I felt. Of the damage to your reputation if anyone thought we were together." He swallows thickly. "I was afraid if I let myself love you, that I would hurt you. And I knew that we could never really be together, so I pretended. And I hurt you anyway."

 

Shuri's eyes are blazing as they stare into his. "No. You don't get to do that. You don't get to shoulder all of this on your own and make all the decisions for both of us. _No one_ determines our fate, James. No one but us. And I know how naive that sounds, trust me I do." She giggles, and it pulls a smile from him. "But it's not impossible for us. Wakanda is much more advanced, even in matters such as this. I think we would have more people in our corner than you realize."

 

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but then he chuckles, shaking his head. Of course she would be two steps ahead of him. What else is new. "God, I love you," he mumbles.

 

Shuri gasps. "I'll never get tired of hearing that." Her breath is feather light as it caresses his face, and he leans in.

 

Her lips barely brush his. In the next instant, Bucky's eyes flutter closed, and he fuses his mouth to hers. The moan that escapes from her throat breathes new life into him. His fingers slip into the hair at the nape of her neck, gripping gently as they start to move against each other. Her tongue licks at his bottom lip, coaxing him to open up, and her hands slide down his chest and around his back. 

 

When she rolls her hips, slender thighs squeezing as she straddles his lap, Bucky groans. He forces his eyes to open and his brain to focus, long enough to catch his breath.

 

"Angel."

 

She moans again, and he hisses at the friction of her warm center pressing into him a second time. 

 

"Shuri, hold on," he grits out painfully. The pout on her face when she stills, then pulls back is _almost_ enough to crush his resolve. "It's late, doll. You've had a hell of a day. You need to rest."

 

"I need _you_ ," she breathes.

 

He squeezes his eyes shut briefly before shaking his head. "I need you too, sugar. You have no idea. But I'm serious. You're exhausted, I'm exhausted. Give yourself some time, okay? I promise I'll be right here." 

 

Shuri straightens up and searches his eyes, quiet for a moment. "I know you don't believe me, Buck, but I really am okay. But you're right; it's late, and I need to get out of these old clothes." Her cute little nose wrinkles in feigned disgust. He laughs, relieved that she isn't upset with him.

 

Once she moves off of him and slides out of bed, he can already start to feel his body growing heavy and his mind fogging with fatigue. Soft lips press to his forehead, forcing his eyes open. 

 

"I think _you_ need rest, too." She winks, and her cheeky grin warms his insides. "I'm going to shower."

 

"Okay, doll. I'll get up in a few and move to the chaise. Just show me where the blankets are." He scratches his chest, struggling to shake off the sleepiness that's overtaking him.

 

She arches a brow. "Don't be silly, you can stay where you are. Just sleep. I'll be out soon."

 

He gives her a sleepy smile, eyes drooping again as he watches her slip into the bathroom. The shower turns on after several minutes. Before he can move, the steady rushing sound pulls him under.

 

*

*

*

 

Something soft and warm moves against his chest. Bucky groans, shifting against the pillows. He feels like he's lying on a cloud.

 

A small sigh sounds in his ears, and his eyes fly open. He squints against the darkness, struggling to remember where he is. Looking around, his gaze falls to the weight at his side, and his heart stops when he lands on her large, bleary eyes gazing back.

 

"Sorry. Did I wake you?" Her voice croaks, and he wonders how long they've been asleep.

 

"S'okay. What time did you lie down?" 

 

She shrugs against him. "Close to midnight, I think."

 

"What time is it now?"

 

Lifting the hand that's resting on his chest, Shuri taps her Kimoyo bracelet. "Huh. 3:06."

 

His head flops back to the pillow and he groans. "How are you awake right now?"

 

"I don't know. I think I'm still on East Coast time." 

 

Bucky chuckles, shifting again to face her. His right hand skims down her back as he studies her. When he grazes the familiar fabric covering her hip and then meets bare skin, his breath hitches. "Just _how_ many of my shirts have you stolen?"

 

Her coy smile isn't fooling him. "One or two... why? You don't like it on me?"

 

He can't help but laugh. "I think you know _exactly_ what I think about how you look in my shirts. And you're wearing those shorts again, I see."

 

Shuri shakes her head, dead serious now. "I'm not wearing anything under this."

 

The admission makes Bucky's head swim, and a growl leaves his throat. "Shuri..." She's playing with fire, but the warning he gives only makes her smile wider. 

 

"What's wrong, Ingcuka?" She murmurs against his throat. All the blood in his veins rushes south at once. Before he knows what he's doing, his hand trails further down her leg, then slowly back up. He brushes the skin just beneath her bottom and she whimpers, pressing her hips against him. He can't think anymore - not with her breath on his neck and her skin under his fingers and her heart beating against his chest. So he doesn't think. He moves.

 

He moans at the firm weight of her ass in his hand as he reaches under the hem of his shirt, kneading and gripping to pull her further up his body. Shuri happily obliges, scooting up to place a kiss to his chin, his lips, his ear. "What do you want, Bucky?" 

 

Right now, Bucky can show better than he can tell. So he sits up and turns, rolling her under his own large frame and branding her throat with his lips and tongue. She's writhing beneath him, gasping and moaning in ways that put his fantasies to shame, and she doesn't stop as he pushes the worn fabric of his henley up, up, up, past her stomach, to her neck.

 

He worships the skin of her exposed breasts, lightly licking one taught nipple, then the other while he draws her slender legs tighter around his waist. His left hand skims up her side to tickle and massage. She whines, low and desperate when he gradually slides his tongue down to lightly bite at her stomach, swirling his tongue around the rim of her belly button before he moves his lips across her hip bones. 

 

She smells so sweet as he travels lower and lower, and his skin prickles when he presses his nose to the soft curls covering her mound. "You smell so good, sweet baby," he mumbles into her. Shuri's hips buck against his mouth. She laces her fingers into the strands of his hair, tugging firmly. Bucky's nostrils flare and he practically whines. He lifts his heated gaze to her face, all screwed up in pleasure, and flexes his fingers on her hips. "Look at me."

 

She slowly opens her eyes and the need in them pierces through to his core. "Bucky. _Please_." She's panting so beautifully under his touch. Her hips roll and squirm. 

 

That makes him grin. "I'm gonna take care of you, Angel. Just relax." He moves his hands to her legs, pulling them up and over his shoulders to drag her closer. He lingers there at her thighs and sucks hickies into her warm umber skin, tasting her everywhere but where she really wants him. Her heels dig into his back and she keens when he grips her supple ass firmly in his hands. 

 

His lips skate ever closer to her center. When he exhales, blowing warm breath over her dripping entrance, Shuri yelps. Her hips jerk again, bringing her flush against his lips. 

 

" _F-fuck_ ," she gasps.

 

The profanity falls from her mouth and sets him rock hard, has him rutting against the bed as he dips his tongue between her molten folds. 

 

He mumbles praises into her tender flesh, reveling in the sharp bite of her nails on his scalp as she pushes further onto his tongue. He eagerly laps up every drop of her tangy, saccharine nectar until he's sure he's drunk, and then he keeps going, devouring her and pushing her closer to the edge. Bucky rolls his hips harder, faster. In his mission to take her apart, he's slowly unraveling himself. He adds one finger, then two, to circle her swollen little bud before sliding home. She's so hot he nearly thinks he'll burn. He welcomes it. 

 

"Buck. I- I'm gonna cummmm!" Her words dissolve into broken curses and slurred Xhosa, drawing him in like a siren song.

 

"That's it, baby, tell me. Come on, Shuri." He's rocking against the sheets now, in time with the rhythm of his fingers and lips and tongue and teeth. In time with the rhythm of her hips as he drives her insane, sucking and nibbling on her dripping cunt like ripe fruit.

 

He rapidly circles her slick bundle of nerves with his tongue and strokes her walls with his fingers, drawing her body taut. The sheen of sweat covering her lithe frame shimmers in the moonlight pouring through her large bedroom window. Her impossibly dark eyes snap open, lips parted in a hoarse scream that awakens something in him he had feared dead long ago. Then she shatters. Bucky idly thinks there isn't anything more beautiful than her coming undone around him. He wants to hear her crying, feel her shaking over and over, on an endless loop until she's a part of his own skin.

 

She mumbles his name on the way to oblivion, sending a flash of heat through his veins and electricity down his spine. 

 

And that's how Bucky cums; suffocated by smooth, dark thighs, his hips bucking, then stuttering against the firm mattress with her dripping down his throat.

 

When his vision clears and his other senses return, Shuri is still moving against him. He studies the way her muscles quiver from the aftershocks of her orgasm, committing it to memory. Gently, he kisses each of her thighs before sliding her legs off of his shoulders. He strips his boxers from his hips as he climbs off of the bed to enter the bathroom. When he returns, warm washcloths and a towel in hand, she's already starting to slip into unconsciousness.

 

A peace settles over him as he gently wipes her clean, then does the same for himself. The cool sheets slide across his still-flushed skin when he crawls into bed beside her, curling her body into his.

 

"Buck... love you..." she mutters sleepily.

 

He doesn't fight the ridiculous grin that takes over his face. "I love you too," he chuckles. "Sleep, Angel. I'll be right here."

 

This time when Bucky dreams, it's of pleasured cries from plush lips, and the steady thud of her heart against his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said above, this is only the beginning for these two. I still have more story to explore, but my body is so ready for more smut, and hopefully you are too!! Lmao


	7. Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The orange and crimson of the setting sun play against the fabric of her yellow dress and reflect off of the flawless surface of her dark skin. She looks more like a goddess than an angel. For a brief moment, Bucky wonders if any of this is real. In what universe is he worthy of this, of her? He couldn't have conjured up someone like Shuri in his broken mind in a hundred million years, and his pulse spikes with the fear that all of this could fall away, as easily as a dream. But her words from earlier come back to him, giving him everything he needs to push that fear down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I've been away for so long- things really got away from me :( But I'm back! Please accept my sincerest apologies for the delay, and enjoy!

He'll never get used to how soft her skin is under his lips. He lingers there, breathing in deeply. But he keeps his eyes open to enjoy this - the image of her, safe, and warm, and happy as she sleeps. Bucky drops one more firm kiss to her head before pulling away.

 

When she sighs softly, all he wants is to crawl back underneath the heavy duvet and curl up right beside her. The sun will be making an appearance soon, though, and he really shouldn't risk staying much longer.

 

He pulls on his pants, running a hand through his tousled strands. Glancing up, his eyes meet hers as they sleepily flutter open.

 

"Where do you think you're going, Barnes?"

 

A low chuckle rumbles through his chest and he shakes his head. Walking back over to the bed, he kisses her on the forehead again. "I've gotta check on Ade and Zuwa, doll. Get some sleep. I'll come back later."

 

She narrows her eyes, but doesn't argue, and he nearly laughs as she purses her lips. "Fine."

 

Her Kimoyo bracelet chimes, and she sits up, reaching over to check her notifications.

 

He rummages around for his phone in the meantime. Just then, Shuri makes a little noise. His eyes slide her way, brow furrowed when she glances up, a sheepish sort of grin on her face.

 

“I know that look.”

 

“What?” Her wide eyes aren’t fooling him; she looks far too awake, now. “Alright, alright. Will you drop me at the lab?”

 

“Shuri-“

 

“Bucky, I’m not going to lie around in bed like I have nothing to do. Ev sent me some files. I want to take a look and get to work.”

 

He suppresses a sigh and rests his hands on his hips. “You don’t have to do that _right_ this minute. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.” Then he raises an eyebrow. “Wait- Ev?”

 

“Agent Ross, Bucky,” she huffs. “Are you going to take me to the lab, or not?”

 

She’s already hopping out of bed before he can answer, but he catches her around the waist with one arm when she tries to scoot past. “Hold up, baby doll.”

 

Her breath hitches at that. The look she gives him, then, makes his fingers tighten around her middle. A slow smile spreads across her face, despite her best efforts. “You’re not playing fair,” she whispers. 

 

Bucky lets out a breath and tilts his head, studying her. He slides his other hand around her waist as well, and she steps into him.

 

“Shuri, I get it. Trust me.” She leans into the warmth of his hand when he cups her face. “But you’re gonna run yourself ragged. You put everything before yourself, always goin’ a million miles a minute. Maybe you need to take a second to breathe?” It’s a struggle to keep the worry out of his voice, to think about anything other than the very real danger she was in only yesterday. 

 

And here she is, ready to work herself into the ground to right a wrong that no one asked her to bear. His chest constricts, and he threads his fingers into her hair to ground himself just a bit. 

 

Her gleaming brown eyes roam all over his face. Then she leans up, draping her arms around his neck. His eyes close for a moment and he hums, enjoying the feel of her nails lightly scratching his scalp. The whisper of her lips against the corner of his mouth forces his eyes open again.

 

"Perhaps you're right," she breathes against him.

 

Wait. What? "What?" He tilts his head again, brows drawing together in confusion at how easy that was.

 

Her soft giggle does little to increase his desire to leave. Instead, he holds her tighter, bemused smile tugging at his mouth.

 

"You look a little like a puppy when you do that. It's very cute." 

 

Heat rises to Bucky's cheeks. Then she presses her hips into his, slowly, deliberately, so that he stops breathing for a split second. Her soft lips capture his, and he takes a moment to savor her before she pulls back.

 

"Why do I get the feeling you're trying to bribe me into taking you to your lab, anyway?"

 

She scoffs. "Believe me, Buck, if I was really trying to persuade you, you would know," she murmurs against his mouth. 

 

He nearly groans at her tone. "Now who's not playing fair?" She squeals when he reaches down to lightly pinch her left butt cheek.

 

"I'll make you a deal," she says breathlessly, "I'll stay here all day, if you stay with me." She practically melts him into a puddle with the heated look in her eyes.

 

He shakes his head at her antics. "No deal, Angel. I've already stayed in your room longer than is probably safe. The last thing we need is for your brother or the Dora to catch me before I have a chance to talk to him." When she pokes her bottom lip out, he leans down and gently pulls it between his teeth for a moment. "Behave, Princess. It's still early. Will you please promise me you'll get a little more rest? See your nephew, visit your mom. At least take _part_ of the day off."

 

She eyes him for a long minute. But her face breaks into a reluctant smile in the next moment. "Alright, I _promise_. But only _part_ of the day," she asserts, pointing a long finger into his chest. "Now hurry up and get home before I change my mind." She winks as she steps back, but not before planting a quick kiss to his cheek.

 

Bucky simply laughs, watching as she slides back into the bed, still wearing his red henley. When the worn fabric rides up, he bites his lip, darting his eyes away before she can catch him.

 

Keys, phone, and small duffel in hand, he backs up. She’s fiddling with her Kimoyos again, and he tuts when he reaches the door. “I said _rest_.” 

 

Her eyes roll. “So bossy,” she mutters.

 

Bucky doesn’t know what comes over him, then, but he levels a gaze at her and lowers his voice. “You have no idea, Princess.” 

 

He can hear her sharp intake of breath from across the room, and it’s an effort not to smirk. He turns, checking the time before he cracks open the door to ensure the coast is clear. 

 

Just before slipping out into the corridor, he throws a wink her way, chuckling when she playfully tosses a pillow at the closing door.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

It’s barely six. The palace is still dark, and virtually deserted. He makes his way out fairly easily, slips out a back entrance undetected. Finding his SUV isn’t a challenge, either. Someone moved it to the lot underneath the tarmac, but he guesses it’s in his usual spot. He’s right.

 

He makes a call when his tires turn onto the main stretch toward home.

 

“It’s 6 a.m. over there, Buck, what are you doin’ up?”

 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Bucky responds.

 

Steve grunts in understanding on the other end. “Yeah, I figured.” He’s quiet for a moment. Then, “How is she?”

 

“Good. Stubborn as hell.” Bucky chuckles, thinking of her exaggerated pout when he told her to get some rest. “Ross sent over some files this morning, and she’s chompin’ at the bit to get to the lab and have a look.”

 

“Does she ever take a break?”

 

“I managed to talk her into taking at least part of the day off.”

 

Steve hums thoughtfully. “I won’t ask how you pulled that off.”

 

“Steve...” Bucky warns. He knows his friend is only joking, but he really doesn’t want to go there right now.

 

“Fine, I won’t ask,” the other man concedes. “Anyway, I’m assuming you didn’t call just for me to harass you?”

 

That makes Bucky smile a bit. He shakes his head as he drives through the sparse, early morning traffic. “How’s everyone over there?”

 

“Mending. Bruce and Tony and Hank have barely slept. I think they might be calling Shuri soon, though. She’s the best, and we could really use her expertise. But I’ll make sure they know to give her a chance to get her bearings, first.”

 

“‘Preciate it. What have you found?” Bucky is eager to learn as much as he can. Whatever this threat is, it’s still out there, and he feels almost sick with the knowledge. 

 

“Logan just came from doing some recon at the site with Nat. We’re studying the fragments now. They’re definitely traceable, so I’ll let you know what we have, when we have it. Nat has her ear to the ground, and we’re tracking one of the members of the FOH who was spotted near Central Park a few days before.”

 

Bucky nods to himself while he listens. “Okay. I have some things I need to take care of, but promise you’ll keep me up-to-date. I’ll call you later.”

 

“Will do. And Buck?”

 

“Yeah, Stevie.”

 

“Why don’t you take your own advice and get some rest, will ya?”

 

“Sure thing, pal.”

 

 

It feels like he hasn’t been home in weeks. The first thing he does after checking in on his babies is get to work tending his neglected crops of beans and yams. He lets his mind go blank while he works in near-silence. It’s meditative, and by the time he’s done, the deep purple and orange of sunrise have given way to cloudless blue, and he breathes a little easier.

 

He’s toweling off and looking for clean clothes when he gets the message:

 

**Princess**  
9:22 AM  
_Want to meet me in the lab after lunch? And don’t worry, I did go back to sleep for a little bit, but it wasn’t as nice without you there 😉_

 

A flash of heat runs through him, and he shakes his head. She’s trying to kill him. That’s what this is. But he grins anyway, shooting her a response to let her know he’ll be there.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Bucky smiles broadly when he spots the women standing outside of the lab. They can't have gotten much sleep, but their eyes are bright and their posture is impeccable.

 

"Ingcuka! Back so soon, eh?" Emiola beams as she greets him.

 

"Nice to see you too, ladies." They both return his nod. "How are you both holdin' up?"

 

Folade answers first. "Relieved to be back home. Did you get any rest?" She quirks a brow, grinning. 

 

Bucky chuckles. "I could ask you the same thing."

 

Emiola sucks her teeth, waving him off. "We are just fine, Bucky. You'd better get in there." She tilts her head toward the door. "The Princess is waiting for you." He thinks he catches a smirk from her, but it's gone as soon as it appears.

 

Bucky thanks the two Dora and walks through the open doorway, gripping the large bag in his left hand. 

 

Striding down the winding ramp, his eyes scan the large area. His search comes up empty, and he still has no luck when he reaches the bottom, directly across from her abandoned workstation. 

 

"James, its good to see you, my friend!" Ntando greets him with a booming voice. He approaches, shaking Bucky's hand before pulling him into a one-armed hug. 

 

"Likewise, man." The large, handsome man looks like he would be more at home on a battlefield field than in a lab. But the gregarious biomedical engineer is practically a teddy bear. He and Bucky became well-acquainted during his recovery, and Bucky is proud to call him a close friend. “Shuri have you working through lunch?”

 

Ntando laughs heartily, clapping Bucky on the back. “We’re pretty much all workaholics, here, you know that. Certainly glad to have the Princess back safely. I assume you're looking for her?"

 

"You wouldn't happen to know where she is, would you?"

 

"Of course. Come with me." He leads Bucky through the maze of equipment and desks and screens, to the back of the lab. Ntando steps aside, waving him forward. As Bucky passes, the man pats him on the shoulder and nods before walking away.

 

Bucky leans against a nearby desk, silently watching her for a moment. Her back is to him, but he catches the rhythmic drumming of her fingertips as she swipes through screen after screen with her other hand, reading almost too fast for him to comprehend. The muted hum of her voice as she mumbles to herself is enough to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

 

He can practically see the gears turning when she opens a file of extremely grainy video. She leans forward, pausing to enhance the image, then mutters an expletive in Xhosa that makes him chuckle under his breath.

 

She whips around, and her small frown transforms into a blinding smile. Leaning back against the desk, she crosses her arms. "You're early."

 

Bucky shakes his head. "Yeah, well, something told me you didn't actually take a lunch, so I figured I'd bring you a little gift." He holds up the bag in his left hand, and she licks her lips as he approaches.

 

"Is that what I think it is?" 

 

"Possibly." He shrugs.

 

Shuri steps toward him and reaches for the bag, but he's quicker. He pulls his hand back at the last second and presses his lips together to keep from laughing at her adorable scowl.

 

"Hold up. I'll show you what's in the bag, _if_ you actually take a break."

 

"You're such a tease," she mutters, eyeing him up and down. Suddenly, he's not sure she's only referring to the present he's brought. "Follow me."

 

She leads him to an empty table, and they sit. He unpacks the bag, laughing when she opens one of the containers and squeals excitedly. "Yes! How did you know?" 

 

"Lucky guess," Bucky answers, warmth filling his chest when she hums contentedly at her first bite.

 

"Well, thank you. I've been craving nyama choma for weeks. And thank Inyoni for me, as well." 

 

He nods. "Already done, sugar."

 

They eat in silence for a while, and he can't stop himself from studying her - from the dark fan of her lashes when her eyelids flutter at the delicious flavor to the delicate slope of her nose, to the slow path of her tongue across her soft upper lip. He licks his own lips as the memories from last night come rushing back. The food in front of him pales in comparison to the tangy, sweet flavor of her, and his mouth waters with the desire for another taste.

 

Just then, her dark eyes lift to his. "You're thinking awfully loud."

 

He clears his throat, struggling to bring his focus back to the present. "I don't know what you mean, Princess."

 

She quirks a brow, methodically cleaning her fingers with a napkin before closing the container in front of her. Following her lead, he places the near-empty containers back into the bag and cleans up their small mess. She stands, walking around the table. As he rises from his own seat, she leans in, brushing her lips against his ear. "I think you do, White Wolf."

 

He exhales sharply though his nose, sinks his teeth into his lower lip to stifle the groan that wants to escape. By the time he recovers, she's already sauntering off toward the back stairwell, down to her office. When he catches up, she stops outside of her door, turning to smirk at him. "I just wanted a minute away from prying eyes."

 

He shakes his head slightly, but his feet carry him forward of their own volition, until he's right in front of her. "We can't keep sneaking around, Shuri. We're gonna get caught, eventually." His gut twists then, thinking of what could happen if T'Challa were to find out about where he was last night. He wonders if the king would be very forgiving, and doubt begins to resurface in his mind. 

 

"Hey." Her small hand slides across his cheek, gently but firmly bringing his gaze to hers. "Stop that. Do I need to repeat what I said last night? I'm not letting anything come between us." Her expression is stern, and the confidence in her tone thaws the ice in his veins just a little. "I brought you down here because I missed you, and I thought we could use a moment alone. Also... I _may_ have already had a talk with Mother."

 

Bucky's stomach drops right through the floor. If his eyes open any wider, they'll pop out, he's sure of it. "Shuri-"

 

"Breathe, Bucky. Honestly, you're so dramatic." She rolls her eyes. "She's not blind. We had a long conversation this morning, and I think she figured us both out long before we did. And she doesn't want your head on a plate." The amused wink she gives pulls a breathless chuckle from his lips. "I told you, we have more people on our side than you think." He simply stares, drinking in every detail of her beautiful face as he lets her words sink in. He brings a hand to her waist, lightly gripping the fabric of her skirt as he draws her closer. 

 

Her mouth barely brushes his, sweet breath fanning across his face, and he meets her the rest of the way. 

 

She moans softly, lips parting just enough. He strokes her tongue with his own, then sucks hungrily on her bottom lip. Her muffled little whimper sets him hard as steel. He firmly pulls her hips against his and grinds his hot length into her belly, desperate to draw her even closer. A low growl leaves his throat at the sharp pull of her fingers tugging his hair. 

 

And then her other hand reaches into his waistband, teasing the skin there before she dips lower.

 

He hisses at the contact. 

 

"Bucky." Her breathy whisper pulls him back, and they both come up for air. “I should probably let you go, before I get any ideas,” she pants, gripping his waistband tighter.

 

He drops his forehead to hers, laughing quietly. "I think it's too late for that, doll." 

 

"Don't be a smartass." She giggles, teeth sparkling and eyes crinkling so that she looks even lovelier, and he inhales slowly to steady himself. 

 

"What are you doin' tonight?"

 

Her expression falters and she gnaws at her bottom lip. "I'll probably be here late. Everett sent me a lot of data to sift through, and I have to return Bruce's call."

 

Bucky nods, trying not to let his disappointment show through. He knows he can't keep her from throwing herself back into her work, but his protective instinct is in full force. "Just don't work yourself too hard, okay? How's your head?"

 

"Absolutely fine. No headaches, no double vision, nothing. And my shoulder is much better. I'm being careful, Buck." She smiles reassuringly, smoothing both hands down his chest.

 

"I know. But you can't blame me for worrying about you." He looks down at her hands and grasps one, turning it over to press his lips to her palm. Her contented sigh settles something in his chest. "I'll check in on you later. Promise you won't stay here too late?"

 

"I'll try," she says, giving him a chaste peck on the lips. "Come on, I'll walk you out." She grasps his left hand, reluctantly turning to drag him back toward the stairs.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

The lake shimmers, glowing with the fiery reflection of dimming light as the sun slowly disappears beneath the horizon. He inhales the clean scent of the water, the earthy fragrance of the grass and soil. He closes his eyes, trying to enjoy the relative quiet of his peaceful little homestead. But his mind won't quit racing. His chest aches and his fingers twitch. He's restless.

 

Ade lightly head butts his thigh, bleating impatiently at the abrupt stillness of his hand. He glances down and shakes his head at the mischievous goat. "Such a spoiled baby." She nuzzles him when he ruffles the top of her furry little head, then bounds off toward the sound of her brother's insistent call.

 

Bucky's ears pick it up half a second later. He checks his phone. No notifications. His body tenses and he stiffly walks back toward his cabin, wondering who would be visiting him, and why now.

 

He calls for Zuwa, knowing his sister will follow. After locking them in their pen for the night, he puts out the fire he had burning and turns just in time to see the sleek SUV pull up. His heart leaps into his throat.

 

"I thought you said you'd be working late," he says, face splitting into a wide grin when she steps out of the driver's seat. She's changed from the outfit she wore in the lab. The short hem of the bright, airy dress flutters around her thighs as she glides toward him.

 

"I changed my mind." She shrugs nonchalantly, a sly smirk gracing her lips. The orange and crimson of the setting sun play against the fabric of her yellow dress and reflect off of the flawless surface of her dark skin. She looks more like a goddess than an angel. For a brief moment, Bucky wonders if any of this is real. In what universe is he worthy of this, of her? He couldn't have conjured up someone like Shuri in his broken mind in a hundred million years, and his pulse spikes with the fear that all of this could fall away, as easily as a dream. But her words from earlier come back to him, giving him everything he needs to push that fear down.

 

Then she's right in front of him, sliding a warm hand up his right arm. "Hi there." 

 

"Hey, sugar." He just stares for a moment, and he narrows his eyes when he notices the mischievous gleam in her eye. "What changed your mind?"

 

She drapes her arm around his neck and snorts. " _You_ did. You asked what I was doing tonight, and I couldn't stop thinking that whatever you might have up your sleeve would be better than being cooped up in the lab all night."

 

"Does Okoye know you're out here after dark?" 

 

She breathes out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, Bucky. And it's not dark _yet_." 

 

He raises his eyebrows, tilting his head. "Really, Princess?"

 

She drops her arm from around his neck to grab his hand. "Are you going to invite me in, or not?" 

 

He huffs out a short laugh. "Sorry, doll. I just wasn't expecting to get to see you tonight. Come on."

 

Once inside, he busies himself looking for something to cook for dinner while Shuri leans against his small kitchen table.

 

"What do you want to eat? It shouldn't take me too long to fix somethin'."

 

"Oh, I brought food, it's in the car. I figured I'd return the favor after you brought me lunch. But we can eat later."

 

He stills at her tone and turns to face her. She licks her lips, tracks her eyes all the way down his body so that his skin prickles. He slowly walks over to where she stands, caging her in with his arms. She smells divine, a mix of floral and sweet that makes his head swim, and he can't stop himself from leaning in to brush his lips against hers.

 

"What do you want, Shuri?" He has to ask, has to know for sure that she knows what she's getting into. Last night was one thing; a beautiful privilege he never thought he would get. But this is so much more. Standing here, in his home, looking so comfortable, almost like she belongs - it brings images to his mind that he still feels he has no right to dream up. 

 

"I want _you_ , Bucky. All of you." She stares right back at him and presses her chest to his. Her soft lips place kisses to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw. When she flicks her tongue to swipe at the shell of his ear, he shivers. "Please."

 

He groans, turning to capture her mouth fully with his own. Their lips move almost in sync, giving and taking in equal measure. He doesn't know how long they stay that way, greedily tasting each other. He kisses a path down to her throat and grazes his teeth along her skin, licking at her pulse when she tightens her grip on his shirt. 

 

"More," she gasps, angling her head to give him better access. Without another thought, he grips her waist, picks her up and sits her on the table. Shuri wraps her long legs around him and rolls her hips. She moans at the pressure of his hard length pushing against her.

 

Bucky kisses her again, fiercely, as he slides his flesh hand along her thigh, pushing the hem of her dress until it's up around her hips. His fingers rub along the soft, damp fabric covering her opening. He moves his lips back to her throat, licks down to her collarbones. Her pert nipples poke through the thin dress, calling to him, and he sucks a hardened bud into his mouth at the same time that he dips two fingers beneath her panties. She cries out, pushing herself further onto his hand.

 

"You're so wet for me, sugar," he moans against her. The scent of her arousal nearly drowns him. It wipes his mind of everything else but her. "Can I taste you?"

 

" _Yes_ ," she whines, nodding frantically. 

 

He leans forward to press his lips to hers in another bruising kiss, before nibbling his way down to her thighs. Kneeling before her, he tugs at the waistband of her little underwear, prompting her to lift her bottom so he can drag them the rest of the way down. He plants a kiss here, a lick there, as he goes, drawing soft sighs from her lips. "Spread your legs for me, baby doll. That's it."

 

She leans back on her hands and parts her thighs wide, and Bucky salivates at the feast before him. She's even prettier than he remembers, pink and brown and glistening with the evidence of her desire for him. His dick throbs when he presses his nose to her center and inhales likes it's the first time.

 

Then he delves in, licking along the seam of her pussy, over and over. His tongue strokes her swollen bundle of nerves and she keens. He revels in the feel of her hands in his hair, gripping and pushing him further against her. His eyes fly open to watch as she takes her pleasure, mouth open, brow furrowed, eyes squeezed shut. 

 

He slowly inserts one long finger and strokes her walls. When more of her floods his tongue, he slides a second, then a third inside, curling and pumping while he circles her clit with his tongue, then firmly sucks it into his mouth.

 

Her thighs tighten around his head and her whole body begins to shake. He grunts, never letting up with the pressure of his fingers and tongue. She clenches around him, nails digging into his scalp as she rides his face, begging for more.

 

"Buck, I-I-"

 

Then she's convulsing against him, fast and hard as she pants out what sounds like a version of his name, and he hums, lapping up everything she has to give.

 

When her legs relax their hold on his head, he places a kiss to each thigh. Slowly standing, he licks her moisture from his lips and leans in to nuzzle her neck. “How are you, Angel?”

 

She exhales sharply, fingers still tangled in his hair. “So good,” she breathes.

 

He rubs her sides with both hands, strokes her thighs as he struggles to ground himself. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

 

She gazes at him through half-lidded eyes, piercing him with raw, unfiltered need. “I’m ready, love.”

 

That fills him with a heat that starts in the pit of his belly and burns all the way out through his nerves, and blood, and skin. And it’s like the next several moments are in slow motion.

 

He slides his hands underneath her and hauls her up from the table, carrying her over to his bed. Carefully, he lays her down on the thin mattress, kneeling between her thighs. She spreads out before him and watches as he kisses his way up her body, peeling the thin cover of her dress as he works.

 

When he reaches her chest, she sits up and strips completely so that she is gloriously naked. Bucky takes the balled up garment and places it in the basket near his bed before turning back to the vision in front of him. 

 

She’s leaned back on her elbows now, pupils dilated. The rise and fall of her supple breasts beckons him forward. He licks underneath one, then the other, caresses each soft mound with his right hand as if they have all the time in the world. His tongue traces around each nipple in turn as he hovers over her. 

 

Shuri mewls beneath him and arches upward toward his mouth. He lightly pulls a taut nipple between his teeth, then laves it with his tongue. Using his left arm to support him, he skims his right hand over her knee, up her thigh, across her mound. She bucks against him, silently begging for what she wants, and he chuckles.

 

“What is it, Shuri?”

 

She whines again and moves her greedy hands from the back of his head to the hem of his shirt. He suckles a dark bud once more, then sits up to remove his shirt.

 

“Those, too,” she whispers, eyes trained on the fabric restraining his erection.

 

The corner of his mouth quirks up at her demand. He rises to his feet, and his skin flushes as her appreciative gaze tracks all over him. Hooking his fingers into his waistband, he removes his pants and boxers in one motion, and he’s bare before her. Her eyes widen when she takes in the sight of his cock, long, and thick, and already dripping.

 

“You alright? We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.” The fact that she’s shared even a piece of herself with him is no small thing. Some part of his brain still shouts that he isn’t deserving, that he has no right to take what she has to offer.

 

But she bites her lip, rubs her thighs together before wantonly letting them fall open once more. “Come here.”

 

He crawls between her thighs again, lips centimeters from her throat. “Do you have protection, doll?”

 

“I just got my implant redone before we left for Oakland.”

 

He leans back to stare at her, arching a brow.

 

“Don’t look at me like that, it was pure coincidence,” she utters, sporting a tiny grin.

 

She slides both hands up his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles beneath her fingers. His eyes close at the sensation, and he inhales slowly. “You sure you want your first time to be with an old man like me?”

 

He opens his eyes again at the softness of her hand caressing his cheek. The tender expression on her face is nearly his undoing.

 

“My first time, and every time after that, Bucky. _I love you_.” She pulls his lips to hers, slips her tongue inside his warm mouth to taste him, languidly, as she rolls her hips up into his. “Get that through your thick skull, eh?” She murmurs against his lips.

 

He digs his fingers into her hip, fighting to keep his own hips still. “Let me hear you say it, Angel. Tell me what you want.” His voice is strangled with need. He wants to look away from her glowing brown eyes, but she holds him steady.

 

“I want you inside me, James. _Please_. Make love to me.”

 

She raises her hips again, slides her slick folds over his length. And his resolve utterly crumbles, as if it was never there at all. 

 

He pushes forward the tiniest bit, running his engorged head over her clit, again and again and again, until she’s clawing at his back and nipping at his lips. He buries his face into her neck to place a gentle kiss there. “Hold onto me, baby. Just relax.”

 

Slipping inside her is everything. 

 

He goes slowly, so slowly, gauging her reactions and holding his breath. She’s scorching hot, and tight, and _so_ wet around him. 

 

Meeting resistance, he stops, brings his thumb to her clit to rub small, deliberate circles until the tension leaves her body.

 

“Do it, Bucky,” she moans. He slides in further, pausing again at her cry. She tightens her legs around him as he gives her several moments to adjust. 

 

He sucks in a ragged breath and murmurs little words of encouragement into her skin. “I love you, sweet baby. So so much. I’ve got you.”

 

Then she moves. Her hips shift experimentally, and she groans, long and low, at the feel of him. “Yes,” she breathes.

 

Bucky slides all the way home, burying himself to the hilt. He lets go a stifled moan before carefully pulling back. Her walls grip him as if reluctant to let go. And then he surges forward again, a bit faster than the first time. He loses himself in her warmth, hearing nothing but her whimpers and cries and rapid breathing as he builds up a steady rhythm. 

 

She begins to undulate beneath him, and he hisses when she digs her nails into his back.

 

“H-harder, Buck. Please!”

 

Wrapping his flesh arm around her waist, he pulls her up onto his lap and rolls his hips forward, rubbing the head of his cock right against the front of her walls as she pulls him deeper. He can feel the pressure building at the base of his spine, but he refuses to take his pleasure before she’s reached her own.

 

Their skin is slick with sweat, and he licks the salty sweetness from her neck and breasts like a starving man while he grips her ass and brings her closer to the edge, thrusting inside of her, in and out, over and over until he’s nearly dizzy with how good she is.

 

“Mmmm, _Bast_ -“

 

“Go on, baby doll, tell me how it feels,” he growls, slowing his pace just enough.

 

She grinds down with more force. “ _God_ , it’s ssso...”

 

“It’s _what_ , Shuri? Use your words for me.” He aches to hear her sweet voice crying out, telling him how he makes her feel, and he picks up the pace to coax it out.

 

“ _Fuck,_ ” she sobs, “you’re so deep, it feels so good.” She buries her face in his chest and moves with him, clenches around him so that his hips stutter for a second. 

 

She trembles, her back arching against him. “I’m gonna- Bucky I’m cumming, _fuck_ -“

 

Her body tenses, and then she’s falling apart beautifully, whimpering and crying hoarsely into his ear while she drenches him. He strokes her through it, steadily rocking into her as he watches her ride out her climax.

 

Bucky lays her back on the bed, surrounding her tiny frame and pinning her beneath him as her walls quiver and clench in little aftershocks. “Shit, you feel so good, Shuri.”

 

He drops his head to her chest, watching the sweat drip down her smooth skin, breathing in the smell of their lovemaking. She grabs his face with both hands and drags his gaze to hers. “I love you. Cum for me, Buck. Hmm yessss.” Her lips devour his, and she tightens around him, pulling his orgasm from him so forcefully that he sobs into her mouth, and all he sees behind closed eyelids is flashes of white light.

 

It’s been so long since he’s done this, so long since he’s truly wanted to. His daydreams and fantasies and past experiences could never compare.

 

She takes all of him, moaning and purring as he falls to pieces in her arms.

 

When he’s finally drained and his hips have stilled, his eyes roam all over her lovely face. He presses his lips to one eyelid, then the other, her forehead, her nose, her chin, her throat. Bracing his arms on either side of her, he slips out, and they both groan with the loss of contact. He strokes her hair before rolling over to stand, in search of something to clean them up.

 

Returning to the bed with two clean towels, he slows to admire her breathtaking form. Her eyes open and she smirks, stretching languorously. 

 

“How do you feel?” He gauges her expression for any signs of discomfort, or regret.

 

But her smile grows, and she slowly sits up. “I feel good.” She bites her lip. “That was... _everything_ , Bucky.”

 

He sighs, then, leaning in to kiss her. “Yeah, it was,” he whispers after a moment. He carefully wipes her clean, then himself. After he’s done, he motions for her to lift her bottom, and spreads the other towel out beneath her. “I’ll change the sheets in the morning.” 

 

Shuri curls up into his arms when he lays them down. He settles behind her, nestling into the warmth of her shoulder. “Wait,” he mumbles abruptly, “shouldn’t you be getting back soon?”

 

She turns in his arms and wiggles against him. “Don’t worry about that, it’s already handled.”

 

He leans back to study her face, frowning at her words. “Shuri...”

 

“It’s fine, love. Mother knows where I am. I’m going to be 24 in a month, they’re going to have to get used to me being a grown woman at some point.”

 

She smiles softly and places a playful kiss to the tip of his nose before laying her head back down on the pillow.

 

Bucky’s chest swells at the endearment. “Hm. Well, what did your brother have to say about that?”

 

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t have to run everything by my brother, James.” She shakes her head, exasperated at his inane questioning. “But,” she continues quietly, “I did inform him I have something to talk to him about...”

 

He chuckles then, surprising her. “I may have sent him a message after I left the lab, telling him the same thing.” He knew, the second they shared a kiss in front of Okoye, that he would need to have a conversation with the Queen Mother and the King. The plan had been to gain an audience with them privately to discuss his feelings and intentions for Shuri, but of course the Princess had other ideas. “I know I can’t hide how I feel for you, doll. And I don’t feel right about forcing you to sneak around.”

 

She presses her lips together, searching his eyes for a moment. “You’re sure?”

 

He draws her closer. “I’m in love with you, Shuri. I’m yours, as long as you want me. If you’re ready, I’m ready. I’m sure about that.” 

 

Her entire face lights up then. She kisses him, hard, and rolls him onto his back in one fluid motion. She straddles his waist, rolling her hips when he grabs a handful of her ass. He’s panting as she pulls back. “Say it again.”

 

His heart seizes, and he grins goofily against her lips. “I love you, sweet baby.”

 

Pressing her center against his growing length, she moans. “Again.”

 

“I love you.” He says it over and over, whispering it into her ear as he slips inside her again, until his words slur and all he can say is her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me hell, because I really psyched myself out trying to get this just right. I hope someone is still interested in this! I'm outlining chapter 8, and things get even more interesting lol. Please leave feedback! I always love and appreciate kudos and comments. Thank you VERY much for reading! <3


	8. Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gritting his teeth against the pleasure, against the feral growl that threatens to escape his chest, Bucky tightens both hands around her hips in an attempt to keep from drowning. But she pulls him deeper, deeper, and deeper still, so that he forgets the potency of the serum coursing through his system and lets her pin him down while she rides him into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO SORRY. I know it's been a very long time, and I had every intention of updating sooner. I hope from the bottom of my heart that you all forgive me and are still interested in this little story. Thank you times infinity for reading. You have no idea how much the kudos and comments mean to me <3

The faint breeze that tickles his skin brings him back. Who knows how long he's been dancing on the edge of sleep; minutes, hours. But it’s nearly pitch black, only a sliver of moon beam peeking through the crack in the door when his eyes shutter open. Bucky puffs out the tiniest breath of relief as he shifts on the worn mattress. She’s still here, head tucked under his chin, back pressed to his chest. He still has her. For a little while longer, at least.

 

Not much could convince him that this isn’t a dream. The sweat from her skin mingling with his feels slick enough, though, and he can still taste a hint of their lovemaking on the humid air. He inhales. It’s slow, and deep, and he licks his lips to savor it all. 

 

As her scent overwhelms him, his mouth waters and his heart begins to thud again, so forcefully that it’s almost painful. 

 

“Hmmm.” Shuri’s contented, breathy little hum is enough to warm him all over, in a way that has nothing to do with the heat outside. She wiggles her hips, nuzzling against him. The hand resting on her hip spasms, fingertips digging into her soft skin. Carefully, Bucky leans forward to peek at her face. Her eyes are closed, but her mouth falls open just slightly, groaning as she settles back further.

 

He sinks his teeth into his lower lip and barely stifles his answering groan. _Shit._ A wave of shame comes over him as he tries to will away the arousal flooding his veins. He fights the urge to kiss her awake, pull her underneath him, drink in every little moan. She's too stubborn to admit it, but he knows she's exhausted. She passed out straight away after their last round, and he refuses to be selfish now. He slides away, little by little, careful not to disturb her. 

 

Bucky's feeble attempt to distance himself is halted as Shuri scoots back. It's as if she's chasing him, even in sleep, and he can't stop the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth. Before he can move again, she turns slightly. Her brow is furrowed and she moans. When his hips involuntarily jut forward, a gasp escapes her lips. She rolls her ass against him one more time, and his heartbeat is so loud in his ears now that he forgets himself entirely.

 

He places a kiss to the curve of her shoulder, darts his tongue out. _Just a little taste_ , he thinks to himself. She moans again, molding her bare body to his like she's a part of him. His lips move to her neck, slowly trailing kisses and licks to her hot skin while he drags a hand from the back of her knee, all the way up to her abdomen.

 

"Bucky," she whines.

 

His gaze shifts to meet her dark eyes. They’re glowing, lids heavy, but fluttering, and the crease in her brow deepens. The blatant need etched into her pretty face flips his instincts into overdrive.

 

"What do you need, sugar?" he rasps into her ear.

 

A shiver rolls through her small frame and she whimpers. It sets him aflame, sending sparks through his core. He slides his right hand up the smooth expanse of her stomach to the skin between her breasts as she arches into him. Her heart is pounding beneath his palm. He moves up further to caress a supple mound, gently rolling her nipple between his fingers. The action draws a hiss from between her clenched teeth, and he shifts his left hand underneath her to reach her other dark bud, causing her to cry out.

 

"That's it, babydoll." He grins against her neck, nearly chuckling when she squirms more deliberately. Teasing her is quickly becoming his new favorite thing, and his hardened length twitches with the notion of drawing this out as long as possible. Torturously slowly, he skims the fingers of his right hand back down her torso, then slides them through the still-damp curls covering her mound.

 

She's burning hot. Bucky groans as he slips a finger between her soft folds. "So wet for me. Good girl."

 

Shuri nods, eyes squeezed shut again. "Mmhmm," she whines sweetly.

 

He feels ready to burst, and he rubs the head of his cock against her bottom to soothe the ache. He can barely tell the difference between the two of them now; she's practically burrowing into him with every tilt and shift of her slim hips. Reaching back, she claws blindly at his skin as he rubs circles just around the perimeter of her aching bundle of nerves.

 

" _Ndicela_ ".

 

He hums, gently nipping the edge of her jaw. Both of his hands still. "Please what, baby?"

 

" _Fuck_ me, James."

 

Air rushes out of Bucky's lungs. He growls. Vibranium arm wrapped across her chest, he shifts her hips up and back with his right hand. Her body thrums with energy, but she nearly melts when he lifts her right leg. He lines himself up with her entrance and flexes his hips. His eyes roll into the back of his head at how tight she is, and he has to pause, sucking in air to try and quell the burn in his chest.

 

But his sweet baby is impatient. She swivels her hips, struggling to take him deeper. A tortured groan leaves his throat at the wetness that pools between them. “Perfect for me, Angel. So perfect.”

 

The whimper that sounds in his ear at his praise is like music. He slides out, hand gripping the back of her knee. Then he slams home.

 

“ _Fuck!_ ”

 

Bucky barely gives her time to catch her breath as he moves inside of her. He alternates between deep and slow, quick and shallow, bringing her to the edge, then backing her away in an endless loop. And she’s gorgeous. Sweat running over her skin, glimmering in the dim light, head tilted back and tongue swiping at her lips while she wordlessly begs him for more.

 

“Yeah, sweet girl?” he pants, bringing his hand to her jaw to turn her face toward him. “Tell. Bucky. What you want.” He punctuates his grunted command with rhythmic thrusts that fire spikes of pleasure up and out through every nerve ending. 

 

“Oh, Bast-“ It’s barely intelligible, dissolving into a desperate cry.

 

She’s possessing him. Every spasm of her walls, every whimper and sigh feeds the raging need that ignites his blood. 

 

"Come on, Shuri. Fuck, you feel so fucking good around me, sweet baby. You wanna cum for me?" She sobs as filthy praises pour from his lips into her sweat-slick skin, and she clamps down on him, hard. 

 

His right hand flies down between her legs. He spreads her moisture over her swollen clit, circling it over and over while his left hand gently kneads one breast, then the other. She bucks against him as he rolls his hips into her steadily now. When she begins trembling, he knows he's got her. "That's it, babydoll."

 

"Yyyyeeeessss, fuuuuck!"

 

Shuri's back arches taut like a bowstring, and then she's convulsing and crying in his arms. Bucky drags his gaze over every inch of her. He bites his lip from the overwhelming sensation of her warm, wet walls pulling him deeper. He's not ready to reach his peak just yet. But he strokes her through her climax, peppers kisses and bites to her flushed, mahogany skin, until her hips slow their movements.

 

When he slips out, she whines, grabbing at his hips to try and keep him in place. He can't help his grin. "Greedy girl," he whispers. 

 

"Hmm." She turns, then, a matching smirk gracing her own lips when she looks up into his eyes. 

 

He simply watches her for a moment, marveling at the curve of her cheeks, the slight upward tilt of her nose, the thick fan of her lashes. His brain memorizes each tiny detail. He wants to know her face, her body, her voice, her breath, better than he knows his own.

 

She lifts a small hand to his cheek. He leans into the warmth, and a groan rumbles in his chest when her nails lightly scratch his beard.

 

"Princess-" 

 

He's cut off by the welcome pressure of soft lips against his. It's gentle at first, slow, and deliberate. Then her teeth tug at his upper lip. She pushes her chest into his and hikes a leg around his hips, catching him off guard when she presses a hand to his shoulder. Bucky gladly obeys her silent command. He drags Shuri with him as he rolls onto his back, groaning at the weight of her slight frame atop him. 

 

“What are you doing?” The slurred words leave his lips at the same time that she slides her slick pussy against the rigid steel of his cock, and he hisses, digging his fingers into her waist. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and he briefly wonders what's gotten into her. But she's practically made it her job for years to playfully torture him. Why should this be any different? 

 

Before he can move, she sits up, bracing her hands against his chest. The sly grin pulling at her mouth nearly makes him chuckle. Until she rolls her hips again, moaning softly.

 

His jaw goes slack. 

 

The sight of her beautifully naked form undulating on top of him while mischief dances in her eyes is wearing the thread on his control dangerously thin. He had wanted to take her slowly, gently, like a lullaby. But the sharp bite of her nails in his skin shoots prickles of pleasurable pain through his whole being. 

 

Swiftly, Bucky slides both hands to her hips. He digs in enough to steal her breath, and hungrily licks his lips at the delicious quiver of her muscles beneath his touch. 

 

“Better watch who you’re teasin’, sugar.” The dark, quiet menace in his tone makes her eyes go wide. He bucks his hips. She squeals, nearly falling forward onto his chest. But he holds her steady, softly nudging the head of his cock against her aching little bud in contrast with the almost savage grip of his fingers. Leaning up, he brushes her lips with his. “I ain’t as easy as you think.”

 

Shuri huffs out a breath, pupils dilating at his words. He groans at how wet she is, her potent arousal flowing out and over him like honey. Suddenly he’s starving, and she arches a brow at the glint in his eye. "Bring it, old man," she taunts.

 

Without another word, he pulls her up, guides her knees until her warm, dripping pussy hovers over his face. His hands slide back, firmly gripping her ass to pull her lower.

 

“Buck,” she prays into the humid air. He can just make out the backward tilt of her head and the rapid rise and fall of her chest as he breathes against her entrance. 

 

Then his tongue flickers out. 

 

He growls at the taste of her and the sharp yelp that sounds above him. Mouth flush against her lower lips, he mumbles, "Careful what you wish for, doll."

 

He starts slow - barely swiping his tongue over her slit, gently stroking her ass with his hands for who knows how long. It's hard to tell if Shuri loves him or hates him for it. But her hips do the most tantalizing roll when he taps her clit with the tip of his tongue, and he pulls her down further. He drowns himself in her cunt, eyes nearly crossing at the flood of moisture that coats his face.

 

"Ah!" Her clipped gasp is punctuated by a harsh tug to his strands. The sting only makes his dick throb harder, and he chuckles in spite of himself.

 

"You gonna play nice now?"

 

She groans. “Asshole.” It’s barely audible, but he catches it.

 

Bucky’s eyebrows raise at that. Tilting his head back, he notes the pained, yet defiant expression on her face. He knows how to fix that.

 

SMACK!

 

The light swat he gives her behind forces her forward. He catches her pussy in his warm mouth and sucks, humming in pleasure when her nails pierce his scalp. 

 

“Oh Shhhhit...”

 

Fuck, he loves the sound of her cursing while he makes her cum, and he idly wonders just how many profanities he can pull from her mouth before the sun rises. He holds onto her thighs for dear life when she begins to quiver around him. Giving one more firm lick, he pulls away and nips at the inside of her left hip.

 

She's keening now, hands still tangled in his hair like reins while he sucks the skin of her thigh, her hip, her abdomen into his mouth.

 

Shuri presses her lips together, stifling the whimpers that try to escape.

 

"Nah baby," Bucky growls. "I wanna hear you."

 

He slips two fingers into her entrance, and her walls contract. " _Oh_!"

 

Bucky's skin is practically on fire, and his heart stutters when she cries out. She rocks her hips frantically. When he curls his fingers and strokes, she nearly bucks off the bed. 

 

"Mmmm, Bucky, _fuck_ ," she pants.

 

And he's officially had enough teasing. 

 

Lifting her by her waist, he quickly settles her over his hips. Her lips are still parted. She watches with hooded eyes that glint in the dim light as he positions himself right at her entrance. Before he can move any further, she sinks down onto his cock and lets out a shuddering breath. 

 

It’s Bucky’s turn to curse. 

 

He’s sure he’ll never quite get used to this; to the way he slips inside her molten walls just so, or the way she grips him so tight he thinks he might die. Shuri looks otherworldly sitting astride him, braids falling around her face like a curtain, dark skin shimmering, breasts heaving.

 

His breath catches in his throat, and he arches his head back into the pillow when she begins to move. She rises on her knees experimentally and, inch by inch, slides back down. A high-pitched whine sounds in her throat, and it reverberates all the way down in his bones. 

 

And she slowly unravels atop him, moving tentatively up, down, up, down, again and again until he’s ready to crawl out of his skin, and he guesses she is too. By the time she starts to wind her hips and rock back and forth, he’s thoroughly hypnotized. 

 

“So good, Buck,” Shuri moans, head thrown back as she blindly grabs at his chest. She’s scratching angry little half-moons into his skin, and he snaps his jaw shut, practically bites off his damn tongue when her pussy clenches around him and her nails draw blood.

 

“Hooooly fuck,” he grunts into the air.

 

Gritting his teeth against the pleasure, against the feral growl that threatens to escape his chest, Bucky tightens both hands around her hips in an attempt to keep from drowning. But she pulls him deeper, deeper, and deeper still, so that he forgets the potency of the serum coursing through his system and lets her pin him down while she rides him into oblivion.

 

“Come on, baby, I’ve got you.” He whispers encouragement into her mouth when she leans down for a kiss. The change in angle presses her clit right against his pubic bone, pulling a startled “Yes!” from her lips. Her fingers find their way into his sweaty strands and she holds on while her hips rock at a frenzied pace that threatens to drive them both off the edge of the world.

 

Cool metal fingers fuse to the meat of her gorgeous ass to hold her steady. Digging his heels into the mattress, he rolls his hips upward, nice, and measured, and deep. When he pulls back, he draws her breath with him, sucks it into his own lungs. Then he surges up again, and a litany of unintelligible syllables mixed with some semblance of his name pushes past her lips. Shuri writhes against him as he rocks her back and forth, up and down. 

 

He brings his flesh hand to her face, tenderly brushes hair and beads of sweat from her forehead while she coils tighter around him.

 

“So beautiful,” he mumbles, her hot skin beneath his tongue. “My beautiful baby. Let Bucky take care of you. Mmmm... cum for me, Angel.”

 

She stills for half a second. And then she sinks her teeth into his neck, orgasm splintering her shaking form into a million pieces. He forces his eyes to stay open. He can’t resist watching her fall apart, and he holds her through it, never stopping the pace of his hips, even as her pulsing walls threaten to drain him dry.

 

He wants to cum so bad, he’s so so _so_ close, but he doesn’t want this to be over yet. 

 

Shuri grunts in his ear, wild and uninhibited. She’s moving with him, and he can feel her creeping toward another climax. Her dark eyes bore into his own when she leans up just slightly. The fire in them pierces through to his core as he clutches her slick form to his own, and he’s vaguely aware that some sort of sound is coming from his own mouth. 

 

“Yes,” she pants. “Cum inside me, Ingcuka. _Please_.”

 

She sucks the skin of his neck into her mouth once more, one small hand cradling his head, and then everything is suspended. Deafening pleasure shoots through the base of his spine, drags him over the precipice with her. Shuri spasms around him, tears mingling with the sweat on his skin as he fills her. One hot stream after another of his thick seed coats her walls and he swears he sees stars behind his closed eyelids.

 

When he comes to, he’s still moving inside of her, slowly now, drawing whimpers from her throat while her thighs clutch his hips.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” she murmurs against his jaw.

 

He hums, reluctantly slipping out of her. 

 

“What?” A bemused smirk grows on her face as he rolls them over to the side.

 

He shakes his head. “You’ll think I’m a heathen if I tell you.”

 

She arches a brow, and a chuckle pours from his lips at her pointed look.

 

“Okay, fine.” He places a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I love hearing you curse when we make love.” 

 

Her answering giggle as she bashfully buries her face in his chest makes his heart pound and his lips curl up.

 

“You wanted to know, babydoll.”

 

That stops her giggling immediately, and her still-glistening eyes meet his. “Bast, I love when you call me that,” she murmurs.

 

Something between a low hum and a growl bubbles forth from his chest as he runs a calloused hand all the way down her side and around her back.

 

“That right?”

 

“Mmhmm.” She nods a little, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth at his tone. Bucky shivers at the tickling of her fingertips across his sensitive skin, and he pulls her tighter against him.

 

Her heated gasp morphs into a barely contained yawn. It’s so endearing that he can’t stop from chuckling again, and he nuzzles the top of her head.

 

“Get some sleep.” 

 

Sitting up, he searches around for the thin blanket that got tossed off in the flurry of activity. Her eyes are closed when he settles back and drags the light fabric over them. Snuggling closer, she places a lazy kiss to his collarbones.

 

“I love you, sweet baby. So much.” He breathes in, reveling in the smells that fill the hut; the salty sweet essence of their joining, the earthy scent of the dirt and grass outside, the familiar, floral fragrance of her hair.

 

Her warmth melts into his own, and he wonders just how he ever got to sleep without her beside him. The steady rhythm of her breathing and the faint chirp of the crickets outside lull him closer and closer to unconsciousness.

 

Images are just beginning to flicker across the darkness of his eyelids when her soft whisper reaches his ears. “Hmm... love you.”

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

"Come with me."

 

He raises a skeptical brow, leaning back to study her face. Her supple lips still hold that mischievous smirk, but her gaze is steady.

 

"What?" she asks innocently. "Last I checked, you're still my bodyguard. And I could use your expertise in going over Ross's files." Her fingers stroke the hairs at the nape of his neck. He sighs.

 

"You're gonna get us both in trouble, sugar." 

 

Shuri scoffs. "I _know_ how to behave in public. You're going to get _yourself_ in trouble."

 

He chuckles, dropping his forehead to hers. He never understands how she always smells so good - fresh, and spicy, and sweet, all at once. Her intoxicating aroma mixed with his own scent sends a tingling rush of warmth across his skin. She hums when his hands skim up the sides of her torso, and her legs tighten around his waist as she straddles him in the wooden chair. He knows she can sense the nervous energy that pours off of him.

 

Bucky wants nothing more than to spend the rest of the day trailing behind her. But the king will no doubt be wondering where his little sister spent the night, and the impending dinner with T'Challa admittedly has Bucky feeling a bit antsy. His chest aches with the very real possibility that tonight could turn into a disaster. He'll fight for his angel tooth and nail if he has to, but tearing a rift in her family is the last thing he wants. What if they disapprove? It's doubtful that either T'Challa or Ramonda ever had someone of Bucky's...status in mind as a match for the Princess, and some small part of him is waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Shuri to open her eyes and realize that she deserves so much better than a traumatized old man with one arm and a one-bedroom hut in the middle of nowhere.

 

Plush lips at the corner of his mouth draw his focus back.

 

"It will be fine, love. I promise." Her hands slide up to gently cup his face. He can't help but stare when his lids slowly open again. "I'm not going to change my mind about us. Tonight isn't a request for permission. It’s a declaration to my family that I’ve chosen you, Bucky. You were right; we can’t sneak around forever, and I don’t want to. No matter what my brother has to say, I'm yours. And you're mine." The warm brown of her eyes gradually melts some of the anxiety that's pooled in his gut. 

 

He drops his gaze to his lap, fiddles with the worn edge of the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The weight of her own curious stare is on him, but she doesn't push. When Bucky finally lifts his eyes back to her face, he's struck by just how open her expression is. 

 

She stares at him like he's something precious. It startles him. No one, save for maybe Steve, has ever really looked at him that way. To see that in Shuri's eyes - it's like looking straight at the sun. His brow wrinkles, and he instinctively begins to flicker his attention back to the floor for fear that she'll see how raw he feels right now - exposed, and afraid, and so truly far gone.

 

"Hey." Two slender fingers grip his chin, lifting his head up. "What was it you said night before last? 'You don't have to hide from me'. If we're going to do this, you can't keep everything locked up." Her tone is pure steel, eyes blazing with determination. She’s not going to let him off easy. Something about that makes his lips curve upward, and he has to clear the lump in his throat before he can speak.

 

“I just want you to be sure, sweet baby. This ain't gonna be easy.”

 

Shuri tilts her head, then, and he frowns at the shadow that flits across her face. "Are _you_ sure?" She whispers it out after a long minute, lithe muscles stiff and still as she studies him.

 

His heart seizes. How does he tell her? That she's everything. And to hell with what's proper, or expected, or healthy (he can sort that out later); Shuri is one of the few things he is certain of anymore in this world. Her kindness, her brilliance, her strength, are as much a part of him now as his own name. But Bucky was never a wordsmith, and he doesn't know how to choke out the truth that sits in his chest without stuttering like an idiot. So he shifts in his seat and holds her gaze, slides both hands up to cup her face like delicate glass. He settles for simplicity.

 

"You can ask me that as many times as you want, Shuri. The answer will always be 'yes'."

 

She grabs the back of his head, then, and they’re forehead to forehead, nose to nose. He hums at the gentle flutter of her lashes against his own, the rush of her breath fanning across his lips.

 

“ _Bast_ , what did I ever do to deserve you?”

 

His eyes snap open.

 

“ _Deserve-_?” Bucky shakes his head at her whispered question. “Princess, you deserve everything. A lot more than I can give you.”

 

Her answering snort prompts a crease to form in his brow.

 

“You’re going to have to stop doing that.” The tone of her voice is admonishing, but he detects a ghost of a smirk at the corner of her mouth.

 

He tilts his head in question.

 

“Don’t give me that puppy dog look, you know what I mean,” Shuri scolds sweetly. “If _you_ don’t believe that you’re good enough for me, that we should be together, this is never going to work.”

 

That sends a pang through his chest. He knows she’s right. 

 

“I just want you, Bucky. I just want you.” 

 

Her muffled sigh when he captures her soft lips with his own is enough to settle him, at least for the moment. She practically dissolves at his touch.

 

“Mmmm... we’re never going to finish breakfast if you keep doing that.” Her small warm hands press back against his bare chest.

 

Bucky can’t help the mischievous laugh that slips out. He cocks an eyebrow. “If I remember right, _you’re_ the one who came over and sat in _my_ lap.”

 

She narrows her eyes, then playfully bites at the tip of his nose, before placing a quick kiss there.

 

“Careful, White Wolf.”

 

The twitch of her mouth as she attempts to smother her grin draws his attention, and he licks his lips at the clear taunt in her words. But she must sense the shift immediately, because she hops up and out of his predatory grasp before he can dance the fingers of his flesh hand along her ribs. She pumps a fist triumphantly, swaying back and forth in the golden light that pours through the small kitchen window. His chest swells and his face nearly hurts from smiling so much. His adorable, playful, gorgeous sweet baby. The thought that he could possibly get the chance to make her this happy every day sparks hope in the pit of his belly. Maybe this evening won't be so bad. 

 

Bucky allows his muscles to relax. He laughs as she continues to dance around him, scooting away every time he tries to reach out and pull her back into his arms. Then the telltale protest of an empty stomach catches his attention, and he tries a different approach. Resting back in his seat, he raises his hands in surrender and reaches across the table for her plate.

 

"Suit yourself, doll. More puff puff for me." 

 

He pops a piece of the soft, sweet, fried dough into his mouth and moans. Her jaw drops in indignation, and it's so comical that he almost chokes instead of swallowing.

 

"Serves you right," she chuckles, eyes narrowing when he gathers himself enough to grab another.

 

"I couldn't hear you, what was that?"

 

Bucky knows he isn't playing fair. His sweet baby has a sweet tooth, and puff puff is one of her favorites. 

 

"I don't have time for your shenanigans right now, Buck, I've got to get to the lab soon." Her exasperated huff only makes his smile grow wider. 

 

"That's why I'm finishing these for you, sugar. I'm doin' you a favor."

 

Then something dangerous flashes in her eyes.

 

She moves over to the counter without another word and grabs the plate of fried plantains. He freezes, last piece of puff puff halfway to his mouth. Shuri knows fried plantains are _his_ favorite. Even abroad, he's always searching for somewhere to get his hands on them. 

 

Shuri shoves a piece into her mouth, eyes rolling in the back of her head at the sweetness, and Bucky stiffens. When her eyes open again, she practically burns him to the ground with her heated stare. 

 

"You sure you wanna do that?" He stands from his seat, careful not to make any sudden moves. She licks her fingers, simply watching as he contemplates the last piece of pastry still in his hand.

 

He thinks she growls a little bit, and his eyes widen. 

 

"You wouldn't," she counters.

 

And then it's gone. Tossed in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed before she can even blink. He's still savoring the taste when something soft hits him square in the chest. Gaping at the Princess, he watches as she sets the plate down and raises another piece of plantain in warning.

 

Bucky shakes his head. "Easy, babydoll."

 

That's what does it. Her favorite nickname after such a betrayal is an act of war, and she slips another piece of plantain past her lips at the same time that she fires another at his head.

 

But he's ready for her. He dodges the sweet projectile and lunges forward just as she turns to run. Her startled little squeal when he encircles her waist and spins her around nearly causes him to laugh. Setting her down against the counter, he keeps his hold on her, chest pressing into her back. He leans down to place a kiss to her neck, but she jerks away.

 

"Traitor." When she turns her face up to his, however, she's biting her lip, eyes dancing with humor.

 

"I'm sorry, sugar." Gooseflesh breaks out on her skin when he brushes her hair aside once more and places his lips to her bare shoulder. "Forgive me?" He moves to the back of her neck.

 

"That depends."

 

He's peeling the blanket from her shoulders now, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades.

 

"On what?"

 

"On- _mmm_..."

 

His lips graze the small of her back.

 

She groans. "On how you plan to make it up to me."

 

Bucky skims his hands down over her hips, to the backs of her thighs, and back up. 

 

"I'll make you a big batch of puff puff for Sunday dinner," he mumbles against her left buttock.

 

She whimpers, and he looks up from his position on his knees to find her head bowed, eyes closed.

 

"And...?" 

 

That makes him grin. "And I'll accompany you to the lab today."

 

She jerks when he moves over to the right side, but she doesn't miss a beat. "And...?"

 

Chuckling, he slides two fingers up her inner thigh, watching the slight quiver of her muscles as his pulse pounds in his ears and his nostrils flare. He's not sure who hisses louder when he brushes across her dripping slit.

 

"And I'll make you cum as many times as you want, if you promise to never throw another plantain at me."

 

Bucky doesn't wait for her reply. Really, he couldn't give a flying fuck about the plantains. He slips his tongue into her warm pussy and quickly decides that Shuri is his favorite thing to eat. All he thinks about as he licks and strokes her into a frenzy is how to stay here forever, worshipping her with his mouth while she falls apart around him.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

He's just getting Ade and Zuwa set up with fresh water when she emerges from the cabin, and he could swear she actually is glowing.

 

"Ready to go, doll?" 

 

She laughs when both goats trot over to her, Bucky hot on their heels. Zuwa bleats happily as Shuri reaches down to scratch behind his ear. "I think they are, too," she responds after a moment, eyes sparkling.

 

The domesticity of the scene warms him. He shakes his head and runs his fingers through Ade's brown and white fur. "Yeah right, I spoil these two enough." 

 

Shuri is wearing a curious expression when he looks up again. Something about it makes his stomach flip. 

 

"Gimme a minute to get them situated, and I'll grab my stuff."

 

Ruffling his babies heads one more time, she nods, then makes her way to her vehicle, overnight bag in hand.

 

"Oh, don't worry about your clothes for dinner," she tosses over her shoulder. "I'll have someone bring your things to the palace. You can freshen up after we leave the lab."

 

He opens his mouth to protest, but he knows it's futile the second she turns and halts her trek to the Jeep, placing a hand on her hip.

 

"Yes ma'am," he says with a little salute. Shuri rolls her eyes. But she sends him a wink and struts off to wait for him in the driver's seat. 

 

The knot in his stomach has loosened a bit since their conversation over breakfast. Still, Bucky wants to get the rest of the day over with and skip right to the main event. He's played the conversation with T'Challa and Ramonda in his head a million different ways, but the fact is, he won't know their reactions until he's sitting right in front of them. 

 

_Tonight isn't a request for permission. It’s a declaration to my family that I’ve chosen you, Bucky. I'm yours. And you're mine._

 

Her words loosen the knot a little more. For the first time in a long time, the traitorous voice in the back of his head - the one on an endless loop that tells him he's not good enough, that he's too poor, too old, too tainted and unstable - is silent. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

His ass is going numb. He’s been sitting on this stool, listening to Tony drone on for the last hour and a half. As entertaining as it is, Bucky would be lying if he said the other man’s innuendo-laced banter with Shuri wasn’t getting a tad annoying. He rubs his eyes and re-reads the last paragraph on the file in front of him, resisting the urge to check the time. Again. 

 

“So nothing yet on the fragments? You know, I could run diagnostics if you want to send them my way.”

 

“You’ve got enough on your plate, Your Highness. We may be a bit slower over here, but we can get it done.”

 

Bucky glances up in time to catch the wink Tony sends Shuri’s way, and he rolls his eyes. Her own eyes roll heavenward, and he can’t help the smug smirk that forms on his face.

 

“Well, if you get tired of doing things the old-fashioned way, you know where to find me, yeah?”

 

Tony guffaws at that. Bucky chuckles under his breath a bit, shaking his head.

 

“Easy, pretty princess. Just because you have the sexiest lab known to man... which, by the way, when are you gonna let me get my hands on some of that hardware? You’ve been promising me a tour of your place for a while now, and since we’re working together, I think it’s only fair...”

 

Shuri scoffs, hands lightly resting on her hips while she lifts her chin at the man on the screen. “In your dreams, Stark.”

 

Tony’s low chortle is laced with a hint of mischief. “We’ll see about that.”

 

“You’re incorrigible, Anthony." She shakes her head. "Anywho, how are our patients?”

 

“All good over here. Gotten quite a few requests for you, though. As it turns out, people don’t prefer starin’ at grumpy pants and fur face all day when they could have the world’s _second_ prettiest genius lookin’ after them.”

 

“You flatter me, truly” she deadpans.

 

“But seriously, things are as good as can be expected." Stark sobers, then. He scratches the back of his head and drops his gaze, briefly. "We may need your help with a prosthetic, though.”

 

She frowns, standing up straighter. “Olivia?”

 

“Yeah,” Tony replies, and his eyes cloud, voice strangled with emotion. “Don't think she'll be able to keep the leg.”

 

Shuri exhales sharply, squeezing her eyes shut for half a second. “Bastards,” she hisses under her breath. 

 

Bucky doesn't miss the slight tremble in her hands as she clenches them into fists and rests them on the desktop in front of her. His own gut clenches, remembering the young teenager he saw at the compound, bloody and mangled and unconscious. Her punishment for simply existing. It makes his blood boil in his veins, and he has to take a moment himself to inhale slowly. When his breathing returns to normal, he turns his focus back to the file in front of him and swipes to the next screen, tuning out the conversation in the background. He catalogues names, dates, locations, scanning his memories for anything that stands out and filing away the information for a later discussion with Shuri.

 

Her mild scolding draws his attention away again.

 

"I don't think that's any of your business, Tony." The arch in her brow and the slight curve of her lips lets him know she's only mildly annoyed by whatever impertinent question Stark has fired at her.

 

Tony raises his hands in mock surrender, impudent grin still playing at the corner of his mouth. "Meant no offense, Princess. But if pretty boy starts actin' up, you know who to call. I'll set him straight." He taps his nose and nods once, and Shuri barely suppresses a groan.

 

Bucky rises from his perch with an exaggerated grunt and ambles over to his sweet baby, ready to rescue her from Tony's ridiculous antics. "I can hear you, Stark," he drawls, good-naturedly.

 

Shuri's glittering eyes flit up to his when he settles beside her. She gives him a light shove with her slender shoulder. The lopsided grin that graces her pretty face prompts one to form on his own lips, before they both turn back to face their friend.

 

"I assure you, James knows how to behave himself. I trust you do, as well." She levels a pointed gaze at Stark, and his dark eyebrows raise in amusement.

 

"Of course, Your Highness." He bows his head slightly, and Shuri rolls her eyes again, struggling to squash the snicker trying to escape.

 

Before she can respond, her Kimoyo beads chirp. She quickly checks the alert and darts her eyes up to Bucky’s face. 

 

“Everything okay?” All humor is gone from Tony’s voice as he notes the interruption.

 

Shuri taps a few beads and then glances back to Tony. “Nothing to worry about. But we do have to be going. We all good here?” She’s thrumming with nervous excitement now, and Bucky kicks himself for not realizing what time it is. He can guess at the reason for the alert.

 

“I didn’t mean to hold you up, kid,” Tony says by way of apology. “We’ll be in touch. Let us know if you need anything at all.”

 

Shuri waves him off and shoots him a gracious smile. “Nonsense, Anthony, you’re fine. And thank you. Speak soon.”

 

Bucky leans against the table behind him and crosses his arms, quietly observing while she closes out the screen and hurriedly shuts down her workstation. The fluidity of her lithe form as she moves around distracts him from the question sitting on the tip of his tongue. She's only worn this dress one other time. It nearly gave him a heart attack then, almost had him confessing his feelings right in the middle of the lab the first time he saw her in it. Watching her slender curves encased in the white fabric now is enough to set his pulse racing again, and he subconsciously tugs at the neckline of his shirt. When did the air conditioning shut off?

 

Another alert chimes, startling them both, and he clears his throat. "Why do you look more nervous than I am?"

 

Shuri fiddles with her bracelet for another second before turning to face him, a wry smirk on her lips. She sighs. "I'm not nervous, per say, just..."

 

"Nervous," Bucky supplies.

 

She tries for a scowl, but it dissolves into a relieved little giggle that lights up her whole face and eases some of the tension in her shoulders. "Alright, _fine_ , Ingcuka. Would you be upset if I told you I'm a tad bit nervous?" She steps toward him, previous task of wrapping up forgotten.

 

It takes every ounce of self control he has not to slide his arms around her waist and pull her warm body into his. But they're not entirely alone, and he refuses to push his luck before he gets the chance to properly speak with her family. Just one more hour. He compromises, brushing her bare elbow with his fingers to calm her nerves.

 

"Honestly, I'd be worried if you weren't at least a little nervous. It's normal, doll." When his hand trails back down her arm, she catches it in a firm grasp and rubs the backs of his knuckles with her thumb. He shivers.

 

She watches their hands for a minute, and he's content to stand there, enjoying this private little moment for the gift that it is.

 

"Thank you," she whispers after several seconds.

 

With any luck, he'll have plenty of time later to fully express his own gratitude toward her. That spark of hope from earlier flares up and grows. He squeezes her hand. 

 

"Hey."

 

She lifts her gaze.

 

"I'm yours."

 

Her breath audibly catches in her throat at his quiet, firm reminder. She returns his gentle squeeze and slowly inhales. "Let's go talk to my family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, _PLEASE_ forgive me :( 
> 
> Next Chapter: The Dinner! Dun dun duuun (sorry) Hopefully you got something out of this chapter, and I will do my absolute best to update sooner. As always, PLEASE leave kudos, comments, unintelligible keysmashes, emojis, whatever you see fit; they really, really keep me going. Thank you!!! <3


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